


i'm just a sucker for a cold-hearted lover (you make me suffer)

by grammarkid



Series: sweet, salty, spicy, sweet [3]
Category: Power Rangers (2017)
Genre: F/F, also trini's still super gay and kimberly's still a tease, i'm gonna go jump of a cliff now kay bye, it's terrible smut but it's still smut, sliiiiiight hints of gender-nonconforming Trini if you squint, this one's like smut for real guys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-15
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-10-28 00:43:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10820166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grammarkid/pseuds/grammarkid
Summary: "According to Buddha, there are three universal truths.One, everything is impermanent and changing.Two, impermanence leads to suffering, making life imperfect.Three, Kimberly Hart is a relentless fucking tease.Okay, fine, maybe Buddha didn’t come up with that last one – but, to be fair, Buddha never met Kimberly Hart."(The part where Kimberly finally stops teasing Trini so fucking much and they both get what they really want.)





	i'm just a sucker for a cold-hearted lover (you make me suffer)

**Author's Note:**

> So... anyone notice how the rating's been changed to Explicit now? Um, yeah.
> 
> It's terrible, I swear, so fucking terrible. Dishonor on me, dishonor on my cow...

According to Buddha, there are three universal truths.

One, everything is impermanent and changing.

Two, impermanence leads to suffering, making life imperfect.

Three, Kimberly Hart is a relentless fucking tease.

Okay, fine, maybe Buddha didn’t come up with that last one – but, to be fair, Buddha never _met_ Kimberly Hart.

Regardless, it’s a fucking _universal truth_ in Trini’s book, because Kimberly is practically a professional when it comes to teasing. She’s got a black belt in flirtation. Hell, she could probably write a doctoral dissertation on how to use sexual frustration as a means of positive reinforcement.

They’ve been together for a little over four months now, and, unsurprisingly, Kimberly still _loves_ to tease her. Anywhere and everywhere, day and night – in Kimberly’s bedroom, during school, in the Pit, on the weekends, while they’re studying, in the middle of dinner with her parents, in the back of Jason’s truck, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. (She’s down to flirt practically twenty-four seven. Trini literally cannot keep up with her.)

And Trini loves it, she really does – because who _wouldn’t_ be so fucking thrilled to have Kimberly Hart waltz in and completely take control of their life, doing anything and everything she can to get their attention and keep it? To be honest, though, twenty-four seven can feel really fucking long sometimes, because they’re two-fifths of a close-knit group of friends who also happen to be superheroes-in-training, so they’re rarely ever alone, and the presence of others doesn’t seem to bother her. Or to deter her at all, really. In fact, she’s so fucking clever that she can tease Trini to the brink of insanity right under everyone else’s noses, without ever giving herself away.

For example, the last time they had a game night at Jason’s place. In the middle of a particularly heated game of Monopoly – which Trini was kind of doing well in, for once – Kimberly suddenly decided that she was _bored_ and the only way to entertain herself was to take Trini’s hand under the table and place it on her own thigh, almost indecently high, where Trini’s fingertips could just graze the stringy, cutoff hem of her little jean shorts – and then, of course, she _crossed her legs,_ so that Trini couldn’t possibly remove her hand without making a scene. For fifteen minutes, she was forced to sit there and _suffer_ , playing her pieces and dealing out all the money she was slowly and methodically losing one-handed.

When Billy finally asked, ‘Hey, Trini, does your arm hurt or something?’ – well, guess what? Her hand was free again. How convenient.

Oh, and how could she possibly forget what happened at their last little bonfire down by the train car?

They were all camped out around the pit in the vague approximation of a circle, talking and laughing. Every now and then, one of them would get up, shuffle around for this or that, pass over some food or snag another drink. Eventually, someone fiddled with Zack’s coveted stereo – and, really, Trini should have just _known_ that she was about to become the victim of a very public execution, because any equation that includes Kimberly and music is, by its very nature, a _dangerous_ one. But Trini didn’t even see it coming, because they were _all_ dancing, just having a good time.

Then Kimberly sat on Trini’s lap. Which was fine, sure, she did that a lot – but she was still bobbing and weaving to the music, swiveling her hips to the rhythm. She had an excuse, after all, because she was _dancing_ , like the rest of them were, but she was pressing down just a little too _hard_ to be innocent, grinding a little to _slowly_ to be having fun, and the smirk on her lips when she turned to sing into Trini’s ear was just a little too smug.

The next time Trini was forced to stand up, she wobbled a little. Zack caught on to her dilemma immediately.

‘Hey, T,’ he whispered surreptitiously, ‘I can see your boner’ – then sucker-punched her right between the hips.

She collapsed to one knee with a strangled groan – because all the blood in her body was below that point at that particular moment, so it fucking hurt, damn it, even though it wasn’t a direct hit – but she managed to return the favor, striking him in the same spot before he could dance away.

He collapsed down next to her with a similar sound of agony, gasped, ‘Not fair.’

‘You started it, asshole,’ she wheezed back, pushed him again for good measure.

Kimberly just watched their little tussle from across the fire, biting back a smirk like she knew _exactly_ what that was all about – and she probably did, because it wasn’t exactly the most subtle interaction, and it also wasn’t the first time something like that had happened, unfortunately.

(One of the best things about being friends with Zack is that he treats Trini pretty much like any other ‘bro’ he’s ever had, and she actually kind of likes it. It makes her feel like, for once, she finally _belongs_. She’s not that weird, awkward girl who happens to like other girls; she’s just one of the guys. Except, yeah, being punched – basically, but not _really_ – in the crotch when she’s turned on really fucking sucks.)

Oh, and did she mention that they like to go to arcades? Because they do. Recently, they’ve all discovered that they like to play pool and darts and bowling and all sorts of challenges that require skill and accuracy – even though Zordon says they’re not supposed to use their enhanced abilities for personal gain and they must only ever be used for the ‘greater good.’ (Come on, they’re _teenagers_ and being a superhero is _fun_.)

Games go by fast, of course, but Kimberly _always_ finds time to distract her.

Pool? No problem. She’ll traipse up from behind, lean up against her under the pretense of boredom or exhaustion – and as soon as Trini goes to cue up at the table and shoot, she’ll scrape her nails down Trini’s ribcage or kiss her neck until she shudders and misses her shot.

Darts? Same thing. She’ll stand behind her and walk her fingertips along the length of Trini’s belt until she’s so dizzy she can hardly hit the board.

Bowling? All Kimberly has to do is pull her in for a playful little kiss, and Trini can do little more than drop her ball and let it roll down the lane.

Okay, look, the point is that things like these happen _all the time_ – and, usually, Trini doesn’t mind, but lately it’s been getting… hard.

Lately, she wants _more_. Lately, when Kimberly teases her while they’re out, Trini almost forgets they’re not alone – and when they _are_ alone, it’s hard to remind herself to calm down, slow down, take it easy, because they technically still haven’t had sex yet. She doesn’t know why, because they still haven’t really talked about it, which is _fine_ – she’s _fine_ with it, she really is – but, God, sometimes it’s just so fucking _hard_.

As much as Kimberly likes to tease her, she still hasn’t pushed things to that point yet – which kind of sucks, but there’s got to be a reason.

Kimberly’s not shy, not by any means, and she never hesitates to ask for exactly what she wants. So, Trini figures, if Kimberly _wanted_ to have sex, she would’ve already asked, right? Because when Kimberly Hart wants something, she goes for it, and she _gets_ it – but she hasn’t even tried yet.

So Trini just… waits. She suffers, endures, survives. _Waits_.

When just being near Kimberly is enough to make her tremble, she tells herself to take deep breaths and think of other things, until the ache is bearable again, until every touch, every teasing brush of her fingertips, doesn’t burn so much, and every glance doesn’t make her heart race.

She tells herself to shake it off, stay strong, be patient, wait, wait, wait. 

Because she _can_ wait. If Kimberly really wants her to wait, she can wait.

//

As it turns out, she doesn’t have to wait too much longer.

Trini’s always been a light sleeper, ever since she was a kid, but it’s gotten even more acute since she became a Ranger. Sometimes, all it takes is the faint creak of her little brothers’ door opening down the hall to wake her from a dead sleep – so, when Kimberly slips in through her bedroom window and the weathered floorboards beneath the sill groan a little under her weight, Trini’s up immediately, blinking the sleep from her eyes.

She pushes herself up onto her elbow, glances at the clock on her bedside table.

It’s only 3:17 AM. Why is Kimberly sneaking into her room? More importantly, why is she just… standing there, tugging on the bottom of her shirt and shifting from one foot to the other, like she hasn’t quite decided what she’s doing yet? Trini frowns, squinting against the remnant blur in her eyes. Kimberly’s face is obscured by shadow as she lingers near the window, but Trini just can make out the way her teeth tug at her bottom lip.

“Kim?” she calls quietly, and her voice cracks a little after hours of disuse. “What’s going on?”

Kimberly doesn’t answer, but she finally starts moving, crossing the room to Trini’s bedside.

(It doesn’t really make Trini feel any better.) “Did you drive here?” she asks – the first thing that comes to mind, anything to get her talking. 

Kimberly settles on the edge of Trini’s bed, shakes her head. She’s closer now, less shrouded in the darkness, and Trini is relieved to see that her expression is calm, the natural arch of her brow smooth and undisturbed – but there’s _something_ in her eyes, something dark and unfamiliar that Trini can’t place. Kimberly allows her to look for a moment, doesn’t protest. Eventually, though, she reaches out for her hand, and when Trini’s fingertips brush against the underside of Kimberly’s wrist, she notices that her pulse is elevated, throbbing rhythmically beneath the skin.

And, come to think of it, now that she’s close enough to analyze, Trini notices that Kimberly’s breath is slightly strained.

Because it’s the only logical explanation she can come up with, she asks, “Did you run here?”

When Kimberly just nods, Trini swallows tightly, starts to worry a little more – because, seriously, what the hell is going on right now?

Kimberly just randomly decided it might be fun to jog over here at three in the morning? No, that doesn’t happen. Something’s _wrong_.

“Baby, talk to me,” she whispers, and she cringes a little internally, because they both know that she doesn’t usually use terms like that. It’s pretty much the biggest red flag she could possibly throw out to betray her own anxiety, but she doesn’t care. She just wants Kimberly to say something.

“I’m okay,” Kimberly says finally. She allows a soft smile as she leans closer to press their foreheads together. “Just wanted to see you.”

Trini frowns, because, yeah, it’s a nice sentiment, and there’s a little part of her that’s stupidly happy to hear it, but Kimberly isn’t usually _like_ this – and, honestly, Trini doesn’t know how to handle her right now. Clearly, there’s something on her mind, and if she really doesn’t want to talk, that’s fine, Trini won’t push her to talk – but she doesn’t know what Kimberly _needs_ , and she can’t give it to her unless she _tells_ her what it is.

It’s a strange and unfamiliar feeling, being at a total loss like this.

So, when Kimberly nudges closer and kisses her – Trini lets her.

She doesn’t know what else to do.

The kiss is gentle and unassuming, slow, soft, but she can feel the tension of Kimberly’s hands fisting into her blanket. When they pull apart, her eyes are dark and desperate – and she’s shaking. Her lips are trembling, just begging to be kissed again and, God, Trini doesn’t really know what she’s doing, but she kisses her again, partly because she’s _aching_ to, but also because a kiss is the only thing Kimberly has asked for since she slipped through Trini’s window, and Trini’s whole life has basically become centered around giving Kimberly what she asks for.

Apparently, kissing her is the right choice, because Kimberly reacts to each one a little more strongly, a little more desperately, and then she’s the one leading them into each new press of their lips, but she doesn’t nip or bite or pull out of reach at the last second or try to tease, like she usually does. Instead, she’s genuinely trying to get closer, her hands passing over Trini’s shoulders and arms, grasping and pulling, until they’re reaching for the blanket again, which is now tangled up between them, tugging at it plaintively, almost desperately, and Trini has just enough time to kick it off and down toward the foot of the bed before Kimberly’s shifting onto her knees and straddling her waist.

Trini still doesn’t really _understand_ what’s happening _,_ and, honestly, she’s kind of torn, because she doesn’t know if this is _why_ Kimberly is here or if she’s just trying to distract herself from the real reason – and she’s starting to think that maybe she should try to tone things down, because now Kimberly’s pressing against her, pushing Trini back to lean up against the headboard and shuddering as she settles down against her, and they’ve done this so many times by now that Trini knows how this is going to go, and she doesn’t know if she should let it get that far –

But, God, she _wants_ to. As anxious as she is about Kimberly’s behavior, her body doesn’t seem to care; it reacts to Kimberly’s lips and hands and warmth just as it always does, her blood running hot, her heart racing in her chest, her lungs seizing up until she starts to feel lightheaded – and Kimberly’s kissing her so sweetly, cradling her face in her hands and claiming her lips again and again, like Trini’s the only thing she needs.

Then she’s breaking their hazy string of kisses and whispering Trini’s name against her lips so, so, so softly that Trini almost forgets that there’s any reason to be worried at all. She’s so lost in the moment that she doesn’t realize Kim’s actually trying to get her attention until she takes her hand in her own, brings it to her stomach and presses it there, low, so low, right above the waistband of her tiny little running shorts.

“Please,” she whispers.

Trini gulps, because, fuck, is she _really_ asking her to –?

She hesitates, tries to catch her breath as she searches Kimberly’s eyes – because this is _new_. They haven’t done this yet. They haven’t even really _talked_ about it yet, and she needs to be sure this is what Kimberly wants before she even considers moving forward.

But Kim presses down on her hand harder, holding it against herself tightly. “Please, Trini,” she breathes. “I need you. _Please_ , touch me.”

Trini’s still kind of torn about it, but, God, Kimberly just sounds so _desperate_ , so _needy_ , and she’s shaking so _badly_ , grasping Trini’s hand like she might just push it into her shorts herself… and Trini feels like a fucking idiot, a supreme fucking idiot, because, this whole time, she’s been waiting for Kimberly to tell her what she _needs_ , and now that she finally has, Trini’s just sitting here, letting the moment drag on, letting Kimberly suffer.

“Okay,” she whispers back, finally. “Okay, baby. I’ve got you.”

(It just slips out again – that word, ‘baby.’ But Kimberly is just so _soft_ right now, begging instead of demanding, and she can’t help it.)

She’s still kind of nervous, but Kimberly kisses her again, melts into her mouth like she’s relieved, like she’s _grateful_ , and she’s making these little wanting sounds into Trini’s mouth that drop straight down to the pit of her stomach and echo there – and then it’s really not a conscious decision. She doesn’t think about letting her hand slip into Kimberly’s shorts, it just kind of finds its way there as she meets Kimberly kiss for kiss.

But, God – oh, _God_ – Kimberly’s panties are _soaked_ , and she lets out this sweet little whimper high in the back of her throat when Trini’s fingers press down against her clit through the fabric – and Trini feels like she can’t breathe. She feels like the room is a thousand degrees, and her blood is boiling beneath her skin, because the sounds that Kimberly is making are so fucking incredible that it makes her _ache_ , and their mouths are still pressed together, their lips still touching, but it’s like Kimberly can’t even focus on kissing her back properly; she’s just breathing and whining and whimpering into Trini’s mouth and Trini never, ever wants her to stop.

Her heart is pounding in her ears and it’s kind of awkward for her wrist to be twisted at this angle, because Kim’s still pressed so close, but Trini doesn’t fucking care about the pain – wouldn’t make her move for anything in the world. She’s desperate to make Kimberly come, wants it more than she can ever remember wanting it before, because every movement of her fingers makes Kimberly tremble and push harder against her.

It’s perfect – so, so perfect – but Kimberly’s gradually starting to get louder, and Trini really doesn’t want to ruin the moment, because she doesn’t think she’ll ever witness anything better than this – but she knows that she’s going to get into a fuck-ton of trouble if her parents hear them.

Reluctantly, she pulls back, wets her lips and whispers, “Kimberly –”

Kim just kisses her in response, whines tremulously into her mouth.

“Kim – baby, you have to be quiet,” Trini murmurs. “You’re – God, you’re _perfect_ , but – my parents –”

Kimberly catches on, nods faintly, and she clasps her hand over her mouth to muffle the little sobbing sound that escapes her when Trini’s fingers circle her clit again. Fuck, Trini feels so, so bad – but they have no choice, because she’s whining a little more fervently now, and Trini is really at a loss, because this is probably one of the hottest moments of her life and she wants to _hear_ her, damn it. All she can do is apologize by pressing her lips to the back of Kimberly’s hand, and then cover it with her own gently, compassionately, in a show of solidarity.

But Kim captures her hand, latches onto it almost desperately, removing her own, replacing it with Trini’s, and holding it there – and, God, Trini can’t explain it, because she’s not doing anything to tease or excite her, she’s just trying to keep herself quiet, but the way she’s breathing against Trini’s palm, with her lips parted and her breath hot and damp and her teeth just _barely_ grazing the skin is driving her crazy, and the way all of her little cries come out muted and slightly muffled only seems to make them _sexier_ somehow.

Kimberly’s pressing up against her so hard, like she’s desperate to get even closer, her hips seeking out the rhythm of Trini’s fingers. One of her hands is braced against Trini’s chest for leverage to keep herself upright, and the pressure on her sternum is just enough to make Trini gasp for breath. She doesn’t even care, kind of wishes Kimberly would push _harder_.

It’s getting so hard to think, because Kimberly’s so excited that Trini’s fingers are slick with her wetness, even though she’s not even touching her directly, and, fucking Christ, it just makes her _ache_ with the longing to slip her panties out of the way and sink inside…

But she stops herself. She doesn’t _need_ to. Kimberly doesn’t _need_ her to. Not _yet_. She can _wait_.

Because a second later, Kimberly’s coming – and Trini doesn’t think she’ll ever tire of the way Kimberly trembles against her, the sweet, quivering sigh in her throat breaking off as she shakes apart, clutching Trini like she might just lose herself in the darkness if she doesn’t hold on tight.

It’s perfect. So fucking perfect.

Kimberly collapses into her arms, slumping against her chest heavily, bonelessly, like she’s suddenly exhausted. Her breath is still a little uneven, still shudders and hitches on each exhale as she breathes heavily into Trini’s shoulder – and Trini feels like she’s the luckiest girl in the world.

Gently, Trini extracts her hands from Kimberly’s shorts, which prompts another full-body tremor to race down her spine. Trini kisses her cheek tenderly and caresses her back, slowly and firmly, with long, rhythmic strokes, until she stops shaking, until her breath stops catching. Until she eventually drifts in to the realm of unconsciousness and falls asleep, right there in Trini’s arms.

Trini doesn’t even realize that she’s starting to doze off herself, just presses her lips to the curve of Kim’s shoulder and closes her eyes.

//

Honestly, she shouldn’t be surprised by this turn of events.

Sure, it happens kind of abruptly, but it’s just another one of the many inevitabilities of their relationship.

After all, from the moment Kimberly kissed her that day on the corner of her street, with no excuse and no explanation, they pretty much hit the ground running, and it’s been a race to keep up with her ever since. Kimberly has constantly been at the top of her game, pushing Trini’s buttons to the best of her ability, and Trini’s been trying _so hard_ to be patient, to keep herself steady – but the reality is that things have been heating up between them even further, and those little ‘accidents’ they have every now and then have been happening with increasing frequency.

The most recent one happened just three days ago, in Kimberly’s bed, desperate and abrupt and not at all dissimilar to the very first time.

Another happened the day just before that one, and two days before _that_ one, and _twice_ the week before, and two weeks ago at the charity ball…

Oh, God – the charity ball. It still makes Trini shudder just thinking about it.

Why were they at a charity ball? Well, that’s kind of a funny story.

By some miraculous twist of fate, some mysterious universal design that Trini doesn’t fully understand, Kimberly’s parents _love_ her. (So Kimberly says, anyway.) Trini doesn’t really believe it, but Kimberly swears that it’s true – and, yeah, okay, Mr. and Mrs. Hart are super chill to her.

Despite her stubbornly persistent reservations, when they invited her to the fancy charity ball for their company, she thought for a second that it might maybe kind of be true. (She’d never admit it. To this day, she verbally swears that they just wanted Kimberly to come and they must have known that inviting _her_ was the only way to ensure that – and Kimberly slaps her on the arm, shoulder, wherever, for saying so, every time.)

At first, she had a lot of mixed feelings about it, because it was really kind and decent of them to invite her, and she _wanted_ to go – mostly because Kimberly literally _begged_ her to come, but also because she wanted to prove to Kimberly’s parents that she was reliable – but she was really fucking nervous about it, mainly because she doesn’t dress like a typical teenage girl, which is something her own parents are always all too happy to point out. She hates wearing dresses and can’t stand the idea of skirts – which didn’t really leave her with many options for a fucking _ball_.

She ended up settling on black slacks and a white shirt and a vest, because she couldn’t think of anything else that was passably formal – but, as she waited on the Harts’ doorstep and picked nervously at her sleeves, she was basically having a heart attack, because even though she’d already sent Kimberly pictures of what she was going to wear and asked her ‘are you sure they won’t mind?’ at least five times and Kimberly had also said five times ‘you’re going to look incredible, they already love you, stop worrying,’ Trini was still terrified that they’d be disappointed in her.

(As disappointed in her as her own parents usually were.)

But Mr. and Mrs. Hart greeted her with identical hugs and smiles, like they never would have expected anything different.

Kimberly, on the other hand, seemed completely floored by it. She was strangely quiet. When she met Trini on the doorstep, she smiled, hugged her, kissed her, and it felt slick and warm and right, just like it always did, but she was _quiet_ , looking at Trini like she didn’t quiet know what to do with herself, clutching her phone so tightly Trini was surprised she didn’t break another one – and the ride to the event was _quiet_ , too. Between the two of them, at least. It was bearable only because Kimberly’s parents filled the silence, kept asking Trini about her clothes, complimenting her on her style, asking if she had worn something similarly ‘dashing’ for her _quinceañera._ (That had been the last time Trini had been forced to dress up, which prompted her to inform them that she was not, in fact, allowed to choose her own clothes that day, so it had been a nightmare. _Yay_.)

That kind of talk made the ride pass relatively quickly, and it almost made Kimberly’s uncharacteristic silence seem normal – but even when they arrived at the event, wandering into a grand ballroom that was probably the fanciest thing Trini had ever seen in her life, Kimberly was still _quiet_.

She was gorgeous, of course, looking as lovely as ever in a pale, pinkish dress patterned with roses and short white heels that made her even taller than usual and, damn, Trini couldn’t keep her eyes off her, because she was just so damn perfect that she actually looked like she _belonged_ in that elaborate, over-the-top ballroom – but her silence had stretched on for almost an hour, at that point, and it was getting unnerving.

Eventually, Trini couldn’t help it. She leaned in to murmur under her breath, ‘You okay?’

And Kimberly just forced a brilliant smile and chirped back, ‘Yeah, of course! I’m fine!’

Trini didn’t believe her. She seemed anxious, shifting restlessly on her feet any time they were still for a moment too long and fretting with the little pocketbook in her hands and only glancing at Trini out of the corner of her eye as they both stood politely next to Kim’s parents and said ‘hello’ and ‘nice to meet you’ to complete strangers who milled to and fro and moved on to mingle with other rich folk every few seconds – and Trini, for the life of her, couldn’t figure out _what_ the hell she had done to make Kimberly start acting so strangely around her.

Just when it was really starting to freak Trini out, Kimberly suddenly turned to her parents, made some wide-smiled excuse about having to go to the bathroom, grasped Trini’s hand – so tightly that it actually hurt, which was pretty fucking tight, because, hello, she’s a _Power Ranger_ – and then began pulling her along all the way up the grand staircase that led to the second floor. (Trini had no idea how Kimberly knew there were bathrooms up there, but she was too focused on not tripping over every step to follow the unforgiving pace Kimberly had set to question her about it.)

It only took a few wrong doors before Kimberly found the bathroom, which was actually one of those really fancy ones that looks like it belongs in someone’s (really large and really ostentatious) house, with a full sink and one of those bathtubs with the sculpted lions’ feet and stuff – but Trini didn’t really have time to marvel at the decor, because as soon as they were inside, Kimberly slammed the door and shoved her up against it.

Certain things occurred to her later on – like what happened to Kim’s pocketbook, how could the door withstand such force without buckling, what might happen if someone tried to walk in – but, in the moment, Trini could hardly think, because Kimberly’s mouth was fucking _devouring_ her, and her hands were _everywhere_ all at once, tugging her closer by her vest and yanking at her belt and fretting with her shirt, pulling it free of her pants and rumpling it as she pushed it up to slide her hands underneath and rake her nails – pink that night – down Trini’s stomach, _hard._

(Trini is still shocked, to this day, that she didn’t come in her pants then and there.)

She honestly had no idea how things had gotten to that point, and she _tried_ to ask, but all she could actually get out was, ‘Kim – wh-what –?’

Kimberly just broke the kiss with a growl, her eyes dark and fierce, fisted Trini’s vest in her hands and demanded, ‘Why are you doing this to me?’

Trini stuttered, fumbled over a few different sounds, but she really didn’t know what to say to that, because, God, she wasn’t _doing_ anything – and the endless depths of confusion must’ve showed on her face, because Kimberly just shook her head, muttered something about her being ‘fucking clueless,’ and then fused their mouths back together, both hands diving beneath Trini’s shirt once more to score her skin with long, vivid marks.

Somewhere in the midst of all the biting and scratching and pushing and, God, just _everything_ – everything Trini loved so much about being with Kimberly – her legs ended up giving out, and, yeah, she probably _would_ have been embarrassed by that, at any other time, but once Kimberly felt her slip, she fucking _pushed_ her the rest of the way down, forcing down her to the floor so that she could press closer, scrambling on top of her.

It was raw and dirty, no doubt about it, because they were making out on the floor of some random bathroom and the hem of Kimberly’s dress was riding higher and higher on her parted thighs, hiked up a little around her hips, and bare knees were bruising themselves against the marble tile as she ground down on Trini’s lap without shame– but it was _perfect_ , every fucking second of it, and the way Kimberly shook and shuddered against her and cursed into her ear made the multitude of marks and bruises she went home with that night _more_ than worth it.

When they finally snuck out of the bathroom fifteen minutes later, they ended up forgetting Kim’s pocketbook, which meant that her parents had to turn around and drive twenty-five minutes in the opposite direction to retrieve it at the end of the night – and when they returned to the ‘bathroom of sin,’ as Trini referred to it for hours afterward, they realized that they had cracked the bolt securing the bottom hinge of the door, so it swung a little loosely and jammed a little when they tried to close it fully. Trini flushed uncomfortably, but Kimberly just smirked to herself, satisfied.

(Needless to say, Trini doesn’t mind dressing up all that much anymore, and she legitimately can’t _wait_ for next charity ball.)

But the point – fuck, the point is that they both want each other so badly that their little ‘accidents’ have been starting to get out of control.

Come on, Trini never would have even _imagined_ not-fucking Kimberly into an orgasm in the second-floor bathroom at The McMansion Hotel – but there’s a busted hinge on the door that serves as proof that it happened. (She wonders sometimes if they’ve fixed that yet. Yeah, probably.)

Honestly, now that ‘accidents’ like _that_ one have been happening, it kind of… makes sense _._

It _makes sense_ that Kimberly would sneak into her bedroom and fucking jump her one night.

(That’s kind of her style, after all.)

//

It makes no sense at all.

It was a dream – _had_ to be. That’s the first thing Trini thinks when she wakes the next morning.

She hasn’t even opened her eyes yet, but she’s convinced. It couldn’t possibly have been real. No, she just _imagined_ everything about last night – because, come on, there’s no way Kim _actually_ ran to her house in the middle of the night, and snuck in through her window and crawled on top of her and begged her to – to – nope, no way. It didn’t happen. It was just a really, really good dream.

(A pretty _tame_ one, too, compared to some of the others she’s had in the past few months.) 

But when she sighs to herself – because, damn, that’s kind of disappointing – she feels the weight of an arm across her ribcage.

Trini’s eyes snap open, and for a good fifteen seconds, she just stares, unable to make sense of what she’s seeing. The arm weighing against her is Kimberly’s arm, of course – because Kimberly’s _in her bed_.She’s still asleep, her dark hair swept across her face in that soft artsy-aesthetic kind of way that makes Trini melt a little every time she witnesses it and, God, she’s fucking perfect, she really is, so beautiful and warm and – _here_.

Kimberly’s _here_ – and she wasn’t _here_ before Trini went to sleep – which means…

Kimberly inhales deeply and shifts against her, nuzzling more firmly into her neck, and, yeah, it’s great and all, but Trini’s still really confused and – shit, there’s someone coming up the stairs. (Ranger senses have their perks sometimes.) Judging by the measured, heavy footfalls, it’s her dad.

Trini hazards a glance at the clock on her bedside table and realizes that she’s missed her alarm. He’s coming to make sure she gets up for school.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. This is _definitely_ not how she wanted to start their proverbial ‘morning after.’

“Trin?” Kimberly mumbles, her voice still thick with sleep. “Mm… your heart’s beating… fast…”

Trini panics, because she can’t let her dad walk in and see Kimberly halfway _on top of her_ – that’s practically a death sentence right there – but she basically has no viable options while Kimberly is still snoozing against her, mostly unconscious, so she does the only thing she can think to do.

She wraps her arms around Kimberly tightly and barrel-rolls them both off the bed and onto the floor until they’re both hidden from view.

It’s not graceful. It’s actually fucking _embarrassing_ , and her pride as a Ranger takes a major blow. They land with a thump, one that Trini prays her average-hearing father can’t detect – and though she tries to catch the brunt of her weight, Kimberly gives a little ‘oof’ when they collide.

After a moment, she giggles groggily from beneath her. “Mm. Good morning to you, too.”

“Shhh,” Trini whispers harshly, pushing up onto her elbows to send her a panicked look.

Almost on cue, she hears her father’s voice. “Trini?” Her bedroom door cracks open. “Breakfast is ready if you wanna come… down. Trini?”

Trini pops her head over the edge of her bed. “Morning, dad! I – I, uh, don’t know if I’ll have time to eat. I’m actually kind of running late.”

He frowns as he glances around the room, then back to her. “ _Mija_ , what are you doing on the floor?”

Trini flushes nervously. “I, uh, lost my… top?” (Fuck, because _that’s_ convincing.) “Yeah, I don’t know – I think it’s down here somewhere.”

(At this point, Kimberly is laughing like that’s the funniest thing she’s ever heard. Trini covers her mouth with her hand to keep her quiet.)

In her head, Trini’s praying ‘please, please, please’ – but as the silence stretches on, she’s not sure if she’s begging for mercy or death.

Finally, her father sighs, and it’s like all the oxygen rushes back into the room.

“Alright,” he says. “But don’t spend too long looking for it. I made _chilaquiles_ for the boys. There’s some for you, too.”

“Thanks, dad,” Trini chokes. “I’ll try to hurry.”

He nods, his face tense, like he doesn’t particularly believe her – but Trini doesn’t have the presence of mind to feel guilty about lying to him. As soon as he disappears, closing her bedroom door behind him, she collapses with an audible groan. She’s pretty sure she just outsmarted Death.

But Kimberly – Kimberly finds this _hilarious_ , because she’s laughing without restraint into Trini’s hand.

“What’s so funny?” Trini grumbles into her shoulder. She doesn’t have the strength to lift her head yet.

Kimberly just laughs harder, until Trini eventually pushes herself up to look at her.

Finally, Kim sobers, but she dissolves into giggles only a moment later. “You, uh – lost your _top_ , huh?”

Trini flushes from the tips of her ears down to her chest. “Yeah, the one you _stole_ and _never gave back_ ,” she growls, but it sounds laughably weak.

Because they both know she’s not talking about a _shirt_ , Kimberly just giggles and giggles and giggles.

“Shut up,” Trini huffs, pushes herself up to her knees and begins fixing her clothes.

She’s just about to say something about how they’re already late and they’ll never make it to school on time if Kimberly doesn’t get off the floor, when she notices that Kimberly is looking up at her hesitantly, searchingly. In fact, she’s actually starting to look like she’s a little… nervous?

Trini settles back on her heels with a frown. “What’s wrong?” she murmurs.

Kimberly bites her lip, tugging at the hem of her shirt. “About last night…”

Inexplicably, Trini feels her face burn again, though she doesn’t particularly understand _why_. “Yeah…”

(It wasn’t a dream. Fuck, it wasn’t a dream. That means that… last night… she actually… Fuck. _Fuck_.)

Finally, Kimberly sits up. “I just wanted to apologize,” she says, threads her fingers through her hair. “I kind of jumped you. That wasn’t cool.”

“No, I – it was fine,” Trini says. She clears her throat, shifts restlessly, struggles to breathe a little – because there’s this terrible, nagging feeling of vulnerability constricting tightly in her chest as she considers the thought that Kimberly might consider last night a _mistake_. “Do you… regret it?”

“Whoa, no,” Kimberly hurries on. She takes Trini’s hands in both of her own. “That’s not what I meant at all. I don’t regret anything – I promise.”

Trini forces herself to take a deep, calming breath as Kimberly kneads her knuckles with her thumbs. “Okay.”

“Last night was… incredible,” Kimberly gushes, and Trini feels a little thrill in the pit of her stomach when she notices the tinge of pink coloring her cheeks – but she is hesitant to let herself relax, because, for some reason, Kimberly still looks uneasy. “It’s just, you know, we haven’t talked about it since that one time, and… maybe I should have waited until we talked about it again? I shouldn’t have just thrown myself at you like that.”

Is _that_ what she’s worried about? Because if she thinks that _Trini_ regrets last night, then she’s fucking insane.

“Kimberly, I _definitely_ didn’t mind,” Trini promises. “I mean, it kind of caught me off guard – but I was down.”

Kimberly laughs a little wryly, but nods like she understands.

Trini lowers her voice. “What was… all that about anyway?”

“I don’t know,” Kimberly murmurs, that lovely color in her cheeks burning a little more visibly now. “I guess I just realized that it was kind of silly to hold back like we have been. I mean, we’re both eighteen, we both _want_ to – obviously – so why are we waiting?”

Trini cracks a little smile – because, yeah, that’s true, but it still doesn’t explain _everything_. “And… you just realized this at three in the morning?”

“Yes,” Kimberly replies, rather certainly, then sighs in exasperation when Trini snickers a little under her breath. She huffs, crossing her arms. “Fine. I _may_ have had a dream or two that inspired my little epiphany to occur in the middle of the night. Shut up.”

Trini accepts her playful shove with a smile. She doesn’t press for more. “Alright, alright.”

Kimberly begins worrying her lip again. “Things aren’t going to be… weird now, are they?”

Trini cocks her head. “Why would they be?”

“I don’t know,” Kimberly replies with a nonchalant shrug. “Just wanted to make sure.”

“No way,” Trini says. “Of course not. Things will absolutely not be weird – I promise.”

//

At this point in their relationship, they’ve had so many ‘accidents’ that she’s seen Kimberly come almost a dozen times.

(She remembers each and every one of them with vivid clarity – kind of obsesses over them, actually. She can’t help it.)

One more slightly less-accidental accident isn’t going to make things weird between them. Not at all.

‘Weird’ was when Kimberly couldn’t look her in the eye at the charity ball because, apparently, she looked _too good_.

‘Weird’ was when Billy asked her why she was only using _one hand_ to finish Monopoly during game night at Jason’s.

‘Weird’ was when her English teacher called on her in class and she couldn’t _fucking answer_ , because Kimberly was texting her things that made her forget what day of the week it was, let alone why Hester Prynne continued to wear that stupid letter on her chest for the rest of the book.

‘Weird’ was that one time Kimberly teased her about having _rough hands_ when she –

Fuck. Honestly, even thinking about it still makes Trini flush a little uncomfortably.

Okay, the truth is that they both get a little… eager sometimes. (Miraculously, even in the midst of all their ‘accidents,’ they still haven’t broken anything yet. There’s a tiny, _tiny_ crack in Kimberly’s headboard from that one night when Kimberly hurt her ankle – but she was _sucking on Trini’s fingers,_ and she couldn’t fucking help it, okay?) It just _happens_ – to both of them – and, apparently, when it does, Trini can get a little… rough.

She tries very hard not to be – because, for some reason, she feels like she _shouldn’t_ , even though Kimberly loves to catalogue the bruises Trini’s fingers leave on her hips when she grasps them just a bit too hard – but, sometimes, it just kind of happens, without her even realizing it.

And one day, while they were making out in Kimberly’s living room, well… as Kimberly so kindly pointed out – ‘You just _spanked_ me!’

(They’d been kissing so intensely that Trini was left kind of dazed. She didn’t even know why Kimberly suddenly pulled back until she said _that_.)

Trini shrunk as deeply into the couch as she possibly could. She literally felt like her face was going to melt off. ‘I did _not_!’ she yelped.

Kimberly just arched her eyebrow pointedly, crossing her arms across her chest, and Trini floundered helplessly – first, because, yes, okay, maybe she was _right_ , and second, because did she seriously have to look so damn _attractive_ while she was looking at her with thinly veiled condescension?

‘You’re – I just –’ she stuttered, then groaned. ‘Okay, I’m sorry if it was a little… rough, but I was – look, you were literally _grinding_ on me, okay?’

Kimberly laughed like that was no excuse. ‘So?’

‘So, I almost _died_ , that’s what,’ Trini countered.

(It was the truth, honestly. She hadn’t _meant_ to… spank her – she shuddered a little at the thought – and she honestly didn’t even realize she _had_. She was just overwhelmed and wanted Kimberly _closer_ , so she tried to _pull_ her closer, and… apparently, she didn’t do it with very much finesse.)

Kimberly laughed again, but she softened when Trini turned away with a grimace, embarrassment burning beneath her skin.

‘Aww,’ she cooed, slinking closer and wrapping her arms around Trini’s shoulders. Her voice dropped to a low rumble. ‘Poor baby.’

And it was so obvious that she wasn’t sincere – that she was, in fact, _mocking_ her – but, damn, it was fucking hot at the same time.

(Trini really doesn’t understand _why_ it’s so fucking sexy when Kimberly is mean. By all accounts, it doesn’t make sense. Trini _hates_ bullies – but whenever Kimberly starts getting an attitude – fully aware that she is doing so and entirely on purpose – Trini is so _down_ for it.)

Of course, Kimberly just couldn’t _let it go_. She smirked as she leaned in to whisper, ‘I didn’t mind,’ and then, ‘You can do it again, if you want.’

Trini vehemently refused, because it was an accident – but, from that moment forward, it became somewhat of an inside joke, one that Kimberly would allude to every now and then, but only indirectly, because it still makes Trini cringe a little when she thinks about it.

So, yeah, no. What happened last night is absolutely not going to make things weird between them.

As long as they never mention _that_ incident again, things between them are going to be just fine.

//

Things aren’t weird. Not at all. (Things are absolutely not _not_ weird.)

Look, everything’s _fine_ , okay? Perfectly fine. It’s just that Trini can’t fucking think straight this morning – which is not necessarily anything out of the ordinary, because she’s dating _Kimberly Hart_ , after all – but this is different. She literally cannot stay focused. All of her classes pass in a blur.

Homeroom is a vague haze of silence, shifting pages, and the ticking of the clock. English drones on like she’s sitting in class with Charlie Brown, and she doesn’t even hear the bell ring when it ends. She just sits there, staring off into space, until a kid from the next period says, ‘Um, that’s my seat?’ and then she has to sprint down the corridor to Calculus, barely squeezing in through the door before her teacher slams it shut on her.

Even in Biology, she’s removed and distracted – which is fucking ridiculous, because Biology is her favorite class. It’s the only class she actually shares with her girlfriend, other than detention, and it also happens to be that magical time of day during which Kimberly turns back in her seat to eye-fuck her no less than twenty times per period, which is just… a life-changing experience, honestly.

But, today, when Kimberly glances back to flirt in the middle of their lesson, Trini can hardly return her gaze.

She sits there, writhing in the confines of her seat in silent agony, because, from the moment Kimberly left her house this morning, dropping out of her window with a sweetly blown kiss and a wink, there’s only been _one_ thing on her mind – last night. She can’t stop thinking about it.

Every time she closes her eyes, it all comes rushing back. The searing heat beneath her skin, surging through her veins, the tightness in her chest that made her gasp for air. That moment – that perfect moment – is emblazoned in her mind like a photo negative. It’s all she can see – Kimberly, silhouetted faintly by the pale glow of the moon, sitting on her lap and arching into her touch and breathing against her lips, struggling to keep quiet, crying out softly into her palm and, God, Trini can’t – she just can’t fucking –

Something hits her in the face.

When she blinks out of her reverie, there’s a note resting innocuously on top of her open textbook.

It’s from Zack. She can tell by the roughly sketched lightning bolt decorating the top in black ink.

(Wait, it’s from… Zack? She’s in detention already? When did that happen?)

When she moves to open it, still numb and disoriented, another one hits her nose. Damn, she didn’t even sense it coming. The second one is from Kimberly, which is made obvious by the glittering pink ink that spells out her name and even more so by the little heart that’s bubbled in next to it. Trini glances up at her kind of sheepishly to see that she’s looking back with a frown, one she quickly interprets as concern. Shit.

Because Zack’s technically arrived first – and definitely _not_ because she’s afraid of what Kimberly’s will say – Trini selects his and unfolds it.

It reads, rather bluntly, _ayy space cadet wuts up w/ u 2day??_

She rolls her eyes, but it’s a struggle to think of something even half convincing, so she opens Kimberly’s note to buy herself some time.

Hers just says, _Are you okay?_

Damn, that doesn’t really help her out at all. Because she’s not. She’s _really_ not – but, fuck, what is she supposed to say? ‘Sorry, guys, I can’t stop thinking about how much I want to fuck my girlfriend again and I’m slowly losing my mind’ – yeah, no, not happening. She’d rather die.

Two more notes come whistling her way, but she hears them this time, and she’s able to catch them before they hit her. Barely.

Jason’s note makes her flush with embarrassment. _Yo T what’s with you today? Are you sick or something?_

But Billy, the angel that he is, doesn’t try to demand the truth from her. His just says, _Hey, want a cookie?_

Trini looks up to see Billy, indeed, brandishing a cookie in her direction, which is actually really touching, because it’s one of his _favorites_ – the soft, fluffy sugar cookies dusted with blue sugar crystals that Kimberly makes especially for him every week. (Kimberly bakes a lot in her spare time, which came as kind of a surprise to the group as a whole, but they love to reap the benefits – Billy especially.) Trini’s about to tell him ‘no, that’s okay, Billy’ and ‘thanks for offering,’ but he flings the cookie in her direction like a frisbee before she gets a chance. Miraculously, she catches it without breaking it, but there’s a shower of blue sugar on her desk that she can do little to prevent.

He mouths ‘good catch!’ and gives her a thumbs up and a pleased smile. (The kid really is a gift from Heaven.)

Trini smiles back at him – but Zack, Jason, and Kimberly are still watching her, each of them wearing identical frowns.

She pops the cookie in her mouth, takes Jason’s note and flips it upside down to scrawl in large print, _I’M OKAY GUYS._

She holds it up for all of them to see, but none of them look particularly convinced. When the Warden turns his beady eyes in her direction, she slips the paper out of sight with a slight pinch of Ranger-speed – just a little bit, okay, and what Zordon doesn’t know won’t hurt him – and gives him a large, innocent smile around the rest of the cookie still poking out of her mouth, earning a sneer of annoyance in return. Once he finally resumes glaring down at the papers he’s grading, she retrieves the paper again and tacks on, in slightly smaller script, _I got a cookie! :)_

Billy beams and gives a happy little clap, but Jason shakes his head and Zack makes a not-so-quiet sound of disgruntlement in Billy’s direction. Across the room, she can hear him whining about it, hissing, ‘Why don’t I get a cookie, B?’ – but she doesn’t really care, because Kimberly’s…

Kimberly’s biting her lip, and not in the teasing, flirtatious kind of way that she usually does. It doesn’t fill Trini’s stomach with butterflies; it fills her chest with dread. She forces a smile for Kimberly’s benefit – which isn’t really all that hard, because just looking at Kimberly often makes her want to smile – but, unfortunately, it doesn’t seem to help at all. Though Kimberly’s lips twitch up into a ghost of a smile, she still looks uneasy.

Trini sifts through the papers littering her desk until she finds Kimberly’s note, brushes the sugar from Billy’s cookie away, and starts writing.

_Honestly, I’m fine, I promise <3_

(The heart is dumb and she hates using it, but she’s nervous, okay? Fuck.)

Kimberly catches her response easily – but she sighs as she begins to reply.

Trini’s stomach churns with every passing second.

Before Kimberly finishes her response, another note comes flying in Trini’s direction.

Zack again, with a messily scribbled, _ohh ok answer her but not me. fine. i c how it is._

Trini rolls her eyes, flicks him off, crumples it up in her fist – then catches Kimberly’s reply as it glides back to her.

_Are you sure there isn’t anything you want to talk about?_

There is, actually – but, for some reason, ‘when can I fuck you again?’ seems inconsiderate, so she decides against it.

She tries to keep her face neutral as she carefully scrawls back, _Not really, I’m just bored, can’t wait to get out of here._

(Lies – all of it.) She tries not to feel bad about it, but even as she tosses it back, she cringes at herself internally.

Once she’s read it, Kimberly nods softly, gives her an affectionate, compassionate smile, then turns back to flip through the book on her desk.

Trini sinks back into her seat with a relieved sigh, glad to have dodged the proverbial bullet – for now – and decides, fuck, enough is enough.

She’s got to snap out of it. From this moment on, she’s going to stay _focused_ , damn it.

//

It’s not particularly hard to distract Trini. Kimberly knows this better than anybody. All it takes is a single glance, a single touch, a suggestive smirk, a flirtatious text message, etcetera. Anything works for her, really – because she’s Kimberly Hart and she can make _anything_ appealing.

A piece of candy, for example. Yep, _candy_.

Why? Because Trini fucking loves candy. Particularly hard candy, the kind that’s sweet and tart and lingers on her tongue long after it’s gone.

(Sounds vaguely familiar, doesn’t it?)

Kimberly… yeah, not so much. She prefers more delicate things, like pastries and cakes and decadent Italian desserts.

She doesn’t particularly care for candy herself – but over the past few months, she’s taking to eating it almost regularly, and Trini knows it’s not because she suddenly decided that she likes the flavor. No, it’s because she’s a relentless tease, and she knows that _Trini_ has a thing for candy.

(Trini also has a thing for Kimberly’s mouth, which means that the combination of the two is just… ugh, so uniquely frustrating.)

Kimberly is _aware_ of these things, of course. She knows them and uses them to her advantage. She may not enjoy the cloying sweetness of candy, the way Trini does, but she does like to pop it into her mouth and roll it around on her tongue and clutch it between her teeth and allow it to drag torturously slow across her lips while she’s eating it – all the while looking Trini dead in the eyes, because she knows _exactly_ what she’s doing.

She does this anywhere she pleases, too, whether it’s in the middle of Biology or while Trini walks her to class or during detention. She had started keeping Jolly Ranchers in her backpack for Trini before they even started dating, but, lately, she’s been the one eating them – and that’s just _fine_.

At this point, Trini would rather watch Kimberly toy with them for ten minutes than eat them herself.

And… yeah, okay, that kind of makes the point for her.

//

Confession – that whole ‘staying focused’ thing she promised to do lasts for maybe two seconds.

Detention ends. She doesn’t hear the bell. She’s rudely pulled out of her daydreams of Kimberly when Zack rushes up behind her, grasps her by the scruff of the neck, and shouts ‘wake up, crazy girl!’ in her ear, which is decidedly unpleasant, given the… _delicate_ nature of her thoughts.

But she tries, okay? They all pile into Jason’s truck and head up to the quarry to train – and she _tries_. She follows them on foot to the chasm, holds Kimberly’s hand, and laughs at all their jokes (when she hears them), and she _tries_ to stay present, but every time she looks at Kimberly, she loses herself. Every stray glance at the pouty quirk of her lips and the unfathomable depths of those rich, chocolate eyes and the delicate column of her throat that’s just begging to be kissed and the graceful arcs of her shoulders that make Trini’s teeth ache with the raw yearning to sink in – each glance makes her stomach drop, her hands restless and searching and unsatisfied, and she just _wants_ everything so much that she can’t stand it.

She feels like a creep, because it’s no secret that she’s attracted to Kimberly, but it’s never been like _this_ before, so overwhelming, and –

Zack’s knuckles collide with her jaw. Then her nose, and then her cheekbone.

She’s sprawled on the ground now, struggling to breathe with horrible burbling wheeze in her chest, and, fuck, her head is _killing_ her. She tastes blood, a lot of it, but she can’t tell where exactly it’s coming from. Jason rushes over to her, slides into a crouch at her side. The gravel shifts and crunches underneath both of them as he helps her sit up with one hand on her arm and the other splayed between her shoulders.

(Sometimes she thinks he takes his role as ‘team leader’ a little too seriously.)

When her vision clears, she realizes he’s not facing her. He’s looking up at Zack, yelling, “Dude, what the hell?”

“I thought she was going to block me!” Zack laughs back nervously. He steps forward, holds out his hands in apology. “T, man, I’m sorry.”

Trini shakes her head, because it’s not _his_ fault, it’s the fucking boner she’s got for Kim that’s taking over her life – and she’s fucking _over_ it.

“Guys, I’m okay,” she says, and she realizes now that all the blood must be coming from her nose (again), because her voice is thick and nasally. Damn. She wipes it away with the back of her hand, clears her throat, tries again. “Seriously, J, it’s cool. Zack’s right. I should’ve blocked it.”

But things in the Pit are tense now, a little awkward. Billy’s tugging anxiously at his sleeves, and Kimberly’s standing kind of listlessly at his side, shifting her feet like she wants to move forward and take Jason’s place, but almost like she’s afraid to – and, fuck, Trini can’t even bear to _look_ at her, she’s so embarrassed. (God, if Kimberly knew the criminal things she was thinking, Trini wouldn’t be able to look her in the eye for weeks.)

Jason helps her to her feet, but doesn’t let her go. He keeps one hand on her elbow and mutters, “Can I talk to you for a second?”

Trini’s heart sinks, because she knows she’s about to get one of his ‘dad talks,’ but she nods like it’s not a big deal. “Yeah, sure.”

He pulls her a little to the side and away from the others, keeps his voice low. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, fine. Just lost focus for a second, that’s all.” She gives him an uncomfortable shrug. “Zack got lucky.”

Jason sighs, shifts his weight from one foot to the other. Trini wishes the Pit would just swallow her whole.

“Look, I’m not trying to be a dick here, but… come on, Trini. You’ve been, like, spaced out all day. Is there something on your mind?”

As a matter of fact, there _is_. She’s standing ten feet away looking _unfairly gorgeous_ in a pair of three-quarter length spandex leggings and a loose tank top – which is yellow, of course, because it’s _Trini’s_ color and she _knows_ what it _does_ to her when she sees her in it – and Trini’s gone through every breathing technique that she knows even the slightest bit about in an attempt to calm herself down in the last few hours, but her heart won’t stop racing at the sight of her and she feels like she’s going crazy, because all she can think about is the fact that it was finally _her_.

Last night, it wasn’t an accident, it wasn’t just secondhand friction during a string of kisses that got too heated – it was _her_. She actually made Kimberly come herself, with her own hand – and now that she’s finally done it, she wants nothing else but to do it again, over and over and over, preferably every day for the rest of her life. Every moment waiting for that opportunity to arise again is nothing short of physical agony.

But she’s sure as fuck not going to tell Jason that.

“I’m cool, J. Promise.” She clears her throat to rid her voice of its audible tremble. (It doesn’t help.) “Just, uh, didn’t get much sleep last night.”

Of course, Kimberly chooses that exact moment to meet Trini’s eyes, and she _knows_ Kimberly hears her. Trini’s face burns as she looks away.

Jason doesn’t seem to notice, thankfully. He just sighs, nods along with her like he actually _believes_ what is possibly the worst excuse she’s ever given. “Do you maybe want to cut out early today?” he offers. “You know, head home, get some rest?”

As ashamed as she is, Trini leaps at the opportunity, because she really needs to get her shit together. This is starting to get ridiculous, and she knows that if she sticks around, she’s only going to get even more frustrated by being forced to watch Kimberly flip and twist around and beat the shit out of three guys who have each got twenty to thirty pounds on her – so she takes the out when she sees it.

“Would that be cool?” she mumbles. “Like, you wouldn’t mind?”

“No, course not. Rest up.”

“Yeah. I will, definitely.”

“Catch you tomorrow?”

“For sure. Um, thanks, J.”

“No problem.” She tries not to flinch when he pats her on the back. “Go ahead, get out of here. I’ll tell the others.”

Trini heaves a sigh of relief. (She hopes that it’s visibly more subtle than it feels, but it’s probably not.) She has been trying to think up a quiet means of escape for the past few minutes, because she’s pretty sure she’d drop dead of sheer humiliation if she actually had to look Kimberly in the eyes and say that she wanted to leave training early because she’s _tired_ – and, out of habit more than necessity, she sends a silent prayer of gratitude to _la Virgen de Guadelupe_ for the fact that Jason Scott is actually a pretty decent team leader and also a damn good friend.

As Jason returns to the group, Trini grabs her bag from the haphazard pile of all their belongings, then skirts around them to the back of the Pit as surreptitiously as she can. For one glorious moment, she thinks she might actually make it, which would be a miracle in and of itself – but, as soon as she rounds the corner, the world spins on its axis, and she finds herself wrenched around and pinned roughly up against the rock face.

By none other than her girlfriend, of course – her very beautiful, very close, and _very pissed off_ girlfriend.

(Damn. So close.)

And, fuck, it’s just _so_ unfair, because – look, okay, she gets that Kimberly is upset that she was going to leave without saying anything, but, _God_ , does she have to push _so hard_ , to the point that it takes effort to breathe properly and every strained exhale wheezes just a little, and to stand so close so that all Trini can smell is the intoxicating mist of her perfume, clouding all her senses until she’s lightheaded and dizzy?

(Kimberly has a good reason to be mad, but she already knows that pushing Trini around never makes her think about _apologizing_ of all things.)

Apparently, that’s slipped her mind, because she doesn’t hesitate to get up in Trini’s face. “Trini, what the hell?”

Trini clears her throat, shifting against the rock digging into her back. “I – Jason told me to go home early, so –”

Kimberly lifts her brow expectantly. “ _So_ – what? You were just going to walk out without saying anything to me?”

“I, uh…” she breathes. Fuck, it’s getting harder and harder to focus on the fact that she should be apologizing right now, because Kimberly is so hot when she’s irritated that it’s almost unholy – and the longer it takes for Trini to find the words, the harder Kimberly _pushes_ , and the stronger that unbearable ache deep in Trini’s gut becomes. The pressure is not eased at all when her eyes eventually stray to Kimberly’s lips. “I was just…”

To her surprise, Kimberly falters. She doesn’t push harder; instead, her grasp loosens. “Is this about what happened last night?” she asks quietly.

Now that it’s been brought up, Trini _definitely_ can’t stop thinking about it, and the more she thinks about it, the more she wishes Kimberly would just keep pushing until she can’t breathe at all, kiss her, bite down hard on her lip, until it bleeds, and – okay, fuck, she _really_ has to go now.

“Trini, if that’s what this is all about, just tell me and –”

“Nope,” Trini yelps, using Kimberly’s moment of distraction to slip out of her grasp. “I’m fine. Everything’s – everything’s great, good, fine.” She slings her bag higher on her shoulder as she backs away, trips over a small boulder, stumbles, but catches herself. “I’m, uh, gonna go shower, and – I’ll see you later?” (Her voice isn’t squeaking – it’s _not_ , okay?) “Text me when you guys get done, and I’ll – I’ll come over. Later. Bye.”

Then she does what she does best – she runs.

//

Nothing helps. She tries to think of anything, literally _anything_ , else – to no avail. She lingers in the shower for nearly an hour, shivering under water that has to be somewhere near freezing, until her bones are numb with the chill and she’s shivering so violently that her teeth chatter.

And still, last night haunts her, lingering in the last traces of warmth in her blood like a fever, like some kind of sickness.

She can’t believe she’s still obsessing over this. It’s fucking ridiculous, it really is. She’s seen Kimberly come before, even made her come before, knowingly and intentionally, that one time when she hurt her ankle – but she had never actually _touched_ her before last night and now she’s…

She can’t do this anymore, she literally can’t. Her own brain is driving her crazy, and Kimberly has already texted her to ask, ‘Are you still going to come over?’ and she really wants to text back and say ‘nope, can’t do it’ and ‘the stars are not in position for this tribute,’ because she _knows_ she’s going to have to come clean once she actually has to face Kimberly again – and she’s really fucking embarrassed about it, to be honest.

Sure, she’s had inappropriate thoughts about Kimberly before – it’s _impossible_ not to, with the torment she puts Trini through on a daily basis – but it’s never been to such an extent that she feels out of control and strung out and, when it really comes down to it, pathetic.

She sucks it up, though. Squares her shoulders, tugs on some clothes, drops out of her bedroom window without even going down for dinner.

(As much as she wants to dig herself an early grave and dive right in, she knows that putting it off any longer isn’t going to help.)

Twenty minutes later, she’s standing in the scenic little meadow that is Kimberly’s back yard, looking up at her bedroom window with something close to dread in the pit of her stomach. Her heart is thumping thickly in her chest from the jog and she swears – _swears_ – that she can smell the faintest traces of Kimberly’s pomegranate shampoo through the open window, and that only makes it beat harder.

But she knows that if she keeps standing here like an idiot, eventually Kimberly’s going to see her, and that’s definitely not going to make things any better after her mortifyingly awkward departure in the Pit earlier – so she takes a bit of a running leap up to the little hedge of roofing below Kimberly’s window and forces herself not to hesitate before she vaults the sill and slips inside.

The room is empty, but not for long. She has just enough time to straighten out the sleeveless cut-off sweater she stupidly decided to throw on over her T-shirt before Kimberly emerges from the adjoining bathroom. She’s already showered and changed into something more comfortable after training and, damn, it really shouldn’t come as a surprise at this point, but she looks _so_ _good_. Her hair is still a little damp and she’s got on this slinky little black top that leaves her shoulders completely bare – aside from the vivid pink straps of her bra, which only seem to accentuate the exposed skin, some- _fucking_ -how – _God_ – and these little black shorts that match, and Trini wonders if there’s more pink beneath –

“Are you listening to me?”

Trini jumps. “Wh-what?”

When Kimberly crosses her arms, she winces.

(This is definitely not how she wanted to start this conversation.)

“Sorry. I _am_ – I’m listening. Now, I mean. I’m listening _now_.”

Kimberly sighs and sinks down onto the edge of her bed, uncrossing her arms and allowing her hands to fall against her thighs with the tangible weight of frustration. “I don’t need you to listen, Trini – I need you to talk to me. I need you to tell me what’s been going on with you.”

Shit. Trini swallows her fears and forces herself to move further into the room, closer, like everything’s okay, like everything’s normal.

“I’m fine,” she laughs, but her voice trembles audibly. She tries to cover it up by flopping into Kimberly’s desk chair with a lazy shrug.

It doesn’t work. Kim stares at her hard. “Yeah, it really seemed like you were _fine_ when you literally ran away in the middle of training.”

Trini blushes to the roots of her hair. (Because she’s ashamed – definitely not because sharpness of Kimberly’s tone makes her _ache_.)

“I, uh…” she mumbles. She scratches the back of her neck nervously. She really doesn’t have an answer, not one that she’s willing to say out loud, anyway, and it’s really unfair because Kimberly’s just sitting there looking like a fucking model – all long legs and gorgeous bronze skin and dark hair and dark eyes and – God, why are they sitting here _talking_ when they could be doing so many other things?

(It’s legitimately too much for Trini’s brain to be this close to her and try to think about anything else.)

Kimberly frowns at her lack of response and says quietly, “This morning, you told me things weren’t going to be weird between us.”

“They’re not!” Trini yelps, but her voice sounds flimsy and unbelievable, even to her own ears.

Kimberly gives her a look, one that Trini knows better than to argue with; the protests on her tongue die as she snaps her mouth shut.

“All day, you’ve been – I don’t know, distant?” Kim begins searchingly, filling the silence between them. “Distracted, maybe? In school, it was like you weren’t even there. On top of that, you let Zack beat the crap out of you in the Pit – which is _crazy_ , because Zack _never_ beats you in the Pit.”

Trini bristles a little at that. (He _didn’t_ beat the crap out of her, okay? It was just some swelling and a bloody nose.) “He got lucky.”

“Trini,” Kimberly snaps, sharp and staccato – and, fuck, why does she sound so fucking _hot_ when she’s mad?

Trini _tries_ to resist, tries to preserve her pride just a bit longer, but she can’t take that look – that hard, haughty ‘you’d better tell me everything, Trini Kwan, if you have any idea what’s good for you’ look. She can’t endure it for more than a few seconds before she just breaks.

“Look, I just – I can’t stop thinking about… last night,” she hedges. Kimberly’s gaze sharpens like she’s caught Trini in a lie, and Trini hastens to correct her. “Things aren’t _weird_ between us, I promise. I just can’t _think_ – I can’t _focus_. That’s why I was so out of it today.” She rakes her hands through her hair, wishing the words would just pour out on their own, but every one is a struggle. “Every time I close my eyes, I just – I see _you_ , and I f-feel…” (She _feels_ the electrifying heat against her fingertips, the warmth of Kim’s lips and breath against her palm – but she can’t actually bring herself _say_ that, not out loud.) She shakes her head, lets the thought trail off, swallows tightly. “It’s all I can think about.”

(Can she die now? She really wants to die now.)

Kimberly is quiet for a moment, studying her carefully from the bed. “That’s it?”

“What do you mean, ‘that’s it’?” Trini counters. “I literally – my brain cannot function today. I feel like a creep.”

When she looks up again, there’s a glimmer in Kimberly’s eyes that wasn’t there before. “Trini, you’re not a creep.”

“I’m not kidding – I’ve been thinking about having sex with you literally _all day_ , Kimberly. That’s a little creepy.”

Kimberly barely withholds a laugh and sighs back, “It’s really not.” She pats the bed next to her. “Come over here.”

Trini eyes the indicated spot warily. Kim rolls her eyes, pats it with a little more force – and, of course, Trini goes.

(She leaves a large and respectable distance between them when she finally sits down, pretends not to notice.)

Kimberly notices, but ignores it. She reaches for Trini’s hand, rubs her knuckles softly. “Trin, relax. You’re overthinking this way too much.”

“Tell me about it,” Trini sighs. She scrubs her free hand over her face, though it has little effect. When she blinks her eyes open, Kimberly is a lot closer than she was before. Trini clears her throat nervously, out of habit, her restless nerves thrumming back to life. “Wh-what are you doing?”

(Damn it, can’t she say one fucking thing without stuttering?)

“Nothing,” Kim says with a heavy dose of false innocence, continues to slink closer until her hand finds Trini’s knee. “Just… easing your mind.”

Before Trini can prepare herself, Kimberly is shifting again, pivoting on her knee and sliding onto her lap with all the certainty in the world, like she fucking _belongs_ there, like there’s nowhere else in the world she could ever fit so perfectly – and it’s really kind of unbelievable how quickly Trini’s body reacts, because the moment Kim settles against her, both thighs bracketing her waist, all the pent up emotion she’s been struggling to keep in check rises to the surface, agony and relief flooding her veins all at once, until everything else disappears and all that’s left is _her_.

God, she’s so _close_ , right fucking _there_ , and Trini wants her _so much_ …

She wants to repeat last night again and again until they’re both spent, until she knows every inch of Kimberly’s body, inside and out.

Kimberly slides her arms around Trini’s shoulders, allows her nails to scrape lightly at the back of her neck, dips down to kiss her softly. It’s not quite as soft as last night, still gentle and playful and more teasing than not, but she doesn’t nip at Trini’s lip the way she usually does, just kind of captures it with her own and tugs just a little – and Trini doesn’t really know why she’s shaking so badly, but she can’t help it.

“I’ve been thinking about last night too,” Kimberly whispers when they break apart.

Trini swallows against the crushing wave of heat in her chest, gripping Kimberly’s hips like her life depends on it. (She honestly thinks it might.)

“Really?” she breathes back. It comes out weak and strained – needy, even – but she considers it a miracle she can even speak at all, at this point.

“Mmhmm,” Kimberly hums back, dipping down to kiss Trini’s jaw. Both of her hands slide further down between Trini’s shoulder blades to rake back up along her spine and over her shoulders, sharper and harder than before. “But if you don’t believe me… I know how to prove it to you.”

And Trini swears, swears, _swears_ , on everything there is to swear upon, that Kimberly Hart is going to be the death of her – because she says _that_ and Trini feels her heart stop, feels her lungs seize; she feels like she’s just going to drop dead. Or worse. (God, please, not worse – not now.)

Kimberly’s hand finds one of Trini’s, which is still locked in a death grip on her waist, because she can’t let go or she might break. With a little bit of gentle prying, she coaxes Trini’s hand away and begins to guide it lower, lower, until it’s clear that there is only one possible destination – and Trini’s heart is pounding like a fucking drum in her chest and part of her wants to scream, because, fuck, _finally_ , this is what she’s been waiting for, aching for, praying for all day – but part of her is still terrified, because she knows, without a doubt, that touching Kimberly will _ruin_ her.

It’s going to destroy her, to break her beyond repair – and she knows it’s crazy, but she _wants_ to be broken.

Kimberly doesn’t heed her fears. She just brings Trini’s hand to the impossibly low band of elastic securing her shorts and presses it there, hard.

Trini squeezes her eyes shut, bites her lip, and begs every deity in existence to grant her mercy. (They don’t.)

Kimberly leans closer, her lips brushing the shell of Trini’s ear, damp and warm, as she whispers, “I’ve been wet for you ever since this morning.”

Trini shudders at the words, a violent tremor that wracks her body so hard she’s shocked both of them don’t end up on the floor. “K-Kimberly –”

But Kimberly doesn’t listen, keeps going. “All day, I kept looking at the clock, wishing I could make time go faster, so we could come back here and I could beg you to touch me again.” That alone is enough to make Trini shiver again – but, of course, Kimberly has to take it further, has to just eviscerate her completely. She slides both hands into Trini’s hair, holds her still and close, breathes into her ear, “I’ll beg if you want me to.”

“Fuck – Kim –” Trini whimpers, choking on the words.

It takes every ounce of willpower she has not to just shove her hand in Kimberly’s shorts that instant. She drops her head to Kimberly’s shoulder, as much to get away from the torturous lips at her ear as to be closer to the soft skin she’s been dying to kiss all day at the hollow of Kimberly’s throat. She’s grasping the waistband of those infuriating stretchy little shorts so tightly that they’re digging into Kimberly’s skin and she’s heard a few of the elastic threads snap under the pressure already – but something deep and distant in the back of her mind reminds her that it’s already past five o’clock and they won’t be alone for much longer.

“You don’t have to _beg_ ,” she grits out breathlessly, can’t speak otherwise. “I _want_ to, so fucking bad, but – but what about your parents?”

“They’re at some event tonight,” Kimberly rushes out, presses insistently against her hand again. It almost sounds like she’s just as desperate as Trini feels – and, fuck, she’s literally _trembling_ now, her thighs quivering on either side of Trini’s waist. “It’ll be late before they get… home.”

Her voice breaks, cracking into a little whimper as she pushes again on Trini’s hand and rolls her hips forward in a tiny little wanting motion – and that’s all it takes. Trini feels her resolve slip away completely. Even if Kimberly suddenly told her they only had five minutes, Trini doesn’t think anything would be enough to convince her that it wasn’t worth a single fucking second.

“Trini,” Kimberly breathes, “please –”

And that’s all she manages to get out before Trini crushes their mouths together.

//

In the absence of an immediate threat on the horizon, Zordon (or Wall-Dad, as Zack likes to call him, much to his annoyance) has mellowed out a lot since he first began grooming them for their roles as Rangers, but – to exactly no one’s surprise – he’s still prone to go off on tangents about ‘the noble weight of their responsibilities’ and how they must ‘conduct themselves with pride and restraint’ and the importance of ‘the incredible gift they’ve been given,’ and blah, blah, blah. (After hearing it about a thousand times, Trini has pretty much learned to tune it all out.)

These lectures often include a long, drawling diatribe about how all five of them are now _connected_ , metaphysically linked to one another through the Morphing Grid, which means that they’re now part of an ‘interdependent bond’ that ties them together as a team and also allows them limited access to each other’s ‘emotional cores’ to enable the ‘exchange of spiritual energy’ in order to maintain group equilibrium and ‘ensure balance.’ Supposedly, this is absolutely _crucial_ to their success as a team, because they are – cue deep, booming Zordon-voice – ‘stronger together.’

In fewer words, all that nonsense really just means that really intense emotions and feelings tend to be shared between them through some weird sort of Ranger-empathy thing? Which is actually kind of cool, because whenever something is off with one of them, the others usually just _know_.

It also means – as they came to find out shortly after they started dating – that whenever Trini and Kimberly get particularly… amorous, it’s not necessarily an isolated incident, whether they’re alone or not.

Which is, really, just so fucking unfortunate, because every time Kimberly comes to the conclusion that relaxing on the couch watching movies is _boring_ and instead crawls into Trini’s lap and fucking _wrecks_ her – _that_ thought is always in the back of Trini’s mind. (The very, very… very back.)

Luckily, it’s not a perfect science. Not just yet, at least. The five of them have been inseparable as friends for several months now, but they’re still relatively new for a Ranger team, so the things that get shared between them are mostly still kind of vague or fuzzy. Zack describes them in terms of ‘bad vibes’ and ‘good vibes’ – which is, honestly, the most sense any of them can make of them at this point. Through trial and error, they’ve all come to determine that anything like sadness, anxiety, frustration, or annoyance is indicated by the weird ‘bad vibes’ feeling, which is kind of like indigestion, while things like happiness and humor and other emotional rainbows and butterflies fall under the ‘good vibes’ umbrella – but that’s basically just what being part of the Morphing meld feels like in general. It’s like a big, warm, imaginary hug.

The guys often speculate how ‘awesome’ things will be when their bond is finally mature, but Trini has already made up her mind that, no, fuck no, it won’t be _awesome_ at all, okay? Because, as things are now, the crippling sexual frustration and mind-numbing attraction she feels for Kimberly don’t _exactly_ translate to the others with perfect accuracy – thank _God_ for that – but one day, they _will_ , and she really doesn’t want to see that day.

As for what it _does_ translate into for the time being, well – getting a straight answer to that question, for various reasons, proved to be extremely difficult, since she couldn’t ask it without outright throwing herself under the bus. Her question was the equivalent of, ‘Hey, when I’m suffering in intense physical distress and basically _dying_ because Kimberly is grinding in my lap and literally sucking my spirit out of my body through my mouth – what do you guys feel?’ – and, no matter how curious she was, she couldn’t bring herself to ask _that way_.

The most articulate approximation she could come up with was a vague, awkward mumble.

One day, she finally just blurted it out, like – ‘Hey, did you feel, like… _weird_ at all last night?’ 

Zack, who she asked first, seemed nonplussed by the question. ‘What do you mean? Weird how?’

‘I don’t know,’ she scoffed back, laughed, tried to play it off. ‘Weird. Just, like… _weird_. You know?’

‘I ate nine packages of Ramen noodles in a row last night – weird like that?’

(Definitely not weird like that.) ‘One, you’re disgusting. Two, forget about it.’

‘Wait. I read an entire book on the history of the zamboni – weird like _that_?’

‘No, not like – no. Never mind, Zack.’

When she asked Billy, he just kind of giggled to himself. ‘You’re asking _me_ that question? I’ve felt weird since first grade.’

And it was such a perfect answer, she couldn’t really get mad at him. ‘You’re not weird, you’re _great_ – but thanks, Billy.’

Two down, one to go. She almost thought she was going to strike out completely.

Miraculously, Jason actually fell for it. ‘Yeah, actually,’ he said, scratching the back of his neck, like he was surprised she would ask and kind of embarrassed to answer her. ‘It was like, out of nowhere I just felt – like, _ahh!_ _Excitement!_ But for, like, no apparent reason, you know? I got really restless, like I couldn’t sit still.’ He looked off into the distance for a second. ‘Remember how Zack said he jumped over his house that one time? Yeah, that’s what it felt like. I wanted to jump over a house. Or something.’

When he walked away kind of aimlessly, shaking his head, Trini accepted the answer without pushing.

(She knew what he meant, because, yeah, sometimes, she kind of wanted to jump over a house, too.)

Unsurprisingly, that feeling of inexplicable restlessness became something of a trend – amongst _all_ of them, no matter how oblivious they had seemed when she asked them about it. So, whenever Kimberly would get particularly feisty, the rest of Rangers would go a little stir-crazy.

Case in point, the night of their first little ‘accident.’ Apparently, while she and Kimberly were otherwise indisposed, Jason set a new record on his weight bench, and Zack sprinted the entire perimeter of Angel Grove in less than an hour and a half – and Billy showed up on Kimberly’s doorstep the next morning with a huge smile and a giant box in his arms and said, ‘Thanks for the boost, guys! I don’t know what you were doing, but it really worked. I finally finished that micro-transmitter relay I’ve been having trouble with – see?’

Trini and Kimberly both just kind of laughed it off, because they knew Billy wouldn’t push the subject, but when they met up with the other guys at the quarry later on that day, Jason kept biting back a knowing smirk whenever he caught Trini’s eye, and Zack wagged his eyebrows obnoxiously in Kimberly’s direction behind her back every five seconds, which seemed to suggest that they had both caught on and they knew _exactly_ what Trini and Kim had been doing the night before, whether they actually knew the finer details or not.

They are forbidden to say any of this out loud, of course, under pain of death – but they _know_.

(For some reason, that information seems vaguely important… but Trini can’t figure out why.)

//

She thinks this might be the best moment of her life. There have been some great ones, yeah, but this – God, _this_ is something else entirely.

They’ve somehow managed to fumble around enough that they are tangled up together in Kimberly’s bed, somewhere near all the pillows. She’s nestled perfectly between Kimberly’s thighs and Kimberly’s _keeping_ her there, holding her close, clutching her like she owns her, kissing her like she’s been hungry for her all her life – and Trini’s blood is racing in her veins like she’s just been living for eighteen years, but now she is finally _alive._ She’s suddenly very grateful that the window is still open, because the breeze that drifts into Kimberly’s room is cool and damp with the hint of an impending storm, and it eases the uncomfortable prickle of perspiration that’s begun to accumulate at the small of her back.

(She’s literally sweating, because she knows where this is heading and, fuck, she _wants_ it.)

Trini’s tugging at Kimberly’s clothes before she realizes what she’s doing, and then Kimberly’s helping her, peeling off her top and shuffling out of her shorts, and they both laugh a little when they realize that Trini actually has to _get off_ of her to remove them all the way – and then they’re melting together again, and Trini’s kissing the soft, soft skin she never gets tired of, mouthing her way across Kimberly’s chest, sliding her hands up the warm valleys of her stomach and over her ribcage, hesitating only a moment before allowing them to settle over her breasts. They’re more familiar to her now, and her hands have already memorized their soft curves and the weight of them in her palms, but she still feels a little jolt of excitement each time she gets the chance to touch them.

Or to kiss them, as the case may be, because Kimberly’s fingers are threading into her hair and guiding her downward, and Trini doesn’t fucking mind it one bit. She kisses the gentle slope of the valley between Kimberly’s breasts before settling on a direction and heading that way. They’ve only done _this_ twice before, so she’s still a little hesitant about just going for it, but Kimberly’s breathing so heavily that her chest is heaving and her hips are twisting beneath Trini’s as she writhes on the bed and her grasp on Trini’s hair is getting incrementally tighter the longer she takes to make up her mind – which seems like a pretty fucking transparent invitation – so she swallows her inhibitions and tugs at the vibrant pink bra obscuring her path until her hungry, open-mouthed kisses chart a path down to Kimberly’s nipple.

When she takes it into her mouth, Kimberly cries out softly, arching into her touch without shame as she flicks it with her tongue. The moment she grazes it with the blunt edges of her teeth, Kimberly sucks in a breath and holds it, gripping her hair tightly – and, yeah, even though they’ve only done this twice, Trini’s already learned that _that_ particular reaction means ‘yes’ and ‘again’ and ‘harder, please.’

She obeys, of course – can’t possibly think of doing anything else – and the harder she bites, the more Kimberly whines, high and soft and needy, and the more obvious the rolling of her hips becomes. A moment later, she’s releasing her hold on Trini’s hair and grasping for her hips instead, pulling them hard against her own, like she needs _something_ , anything, but she can’t figure out how to articulate what she wants.

“Trini,” she gasps, arches into her. “I need you.”

God, that’s everything Trini has ever wanted to hear, and she just nods because she knows – _feels_ – exactly what Kimberly is trying to say.

When she looks up to meet Kimberly’s gaze, she’s momentarily stunned by the hunger that’s darkened her eyes and the feverish flush spreading from her cheekbones down to her throat and out across her chest. God, she’s gorgeous – she’s the most exquisite thing Trini’s ever laid eyes on.

But she’s desperate, whining faintly under her breath while she waits – and, fuck, Trini really needs to stop thinking so much.

She inhales deeply, then slides her hand down the strong curve of Kimberly’s hipbone to finger the elastic band of her panties.

Kimberly doesn’t even have to think about it. She just nods, wets her lips and whispers, “Take them off.”

Trini tries not to think about the fact that her hands are visibly shaking as she pushes herself up onto her knees and grasps at the last remaining scrap of fabric that links her to her own sanity. Slowly, she draws Kimberly’s panties down her thighs, then drops them onto the edge of the bed.

She’s staring. She doesn’t _mean_ to, she really doesn’t, because she knows it has got to be pretty fucking obvious, but she can’t help herself. She has inadvertently caught more than a few glimpses of Kimberly in various states of undress in the few months that they’ve been dating, but those brief moments are nothing compared to _this_. God, she’s so, so beautiful and that ache in the base of Trini’s spine is intensified tenfold when she notices the slick sheen of wetness glossing Kimberly’s inner thighs near the swollen, pink –

“You can look later,” Kimberly breathes harshly, reaching up, grasping the front of Trini’s sweatshirt and yanking her back down until she has no choice but to collapse on top of her. Her lips find Trini’s and meld against them in a heated, needy kiss that leaves her reeling. “Just touch me.”

And Trini’s nervous – fuck, fuck, fuck, she’s _so_ fucking _nervous_ – but she _wants this_ and she’s determined not to let herself ruin the moment.

She nods (to assure herself more than anything) shifting a bit to one side to give herself more room as she begins to inch her hand up Kimberly’s thigh. She tries not to overthink it – reminds herself that they’re alone this time, they don’t have to worry about being interrupted or being heard, so Kimberly can be as loud as she wants to be – and then, before she’s really prepared for it, she’s _touching_ her, and even though she was doing _almost_ the same thing last night, fuck, this is _so_ much better, because Kimberly’s so fucking wet that it makes Trini’s head spin and when Trini’s fingertips brush against her clit, this little whimper escapes her throat and it’s so, so perfect that Trini feels like she’d die to hear it again.

She circles the swollen nub a few times, already addicted to the way it feels, amazed by how easily her fingers slide against it, and she feels kind of like she’s dying inside, because Kimberly is clinging to her shoulders and shuddering delicately against her with every touch, visibly trying to keep still and failing miserably each time her hips tilt off the bed in search of more contact, begging without words for a little bit more.

She doesn’t think she’s ever felt anything so fucking perfect.

But she’s wrong. She’s so wrong. Because Kimberly’s arching into her like _that_ and she’s so wet that – Trini swears she doesn’t do it on purpose, it just kind of _happens_ – her fingertips slip _down_ and sink _in,_ just the slightest bit, and, God, she has to fight every instinct she has to push inside.

Kimberly whimpers when she doesn’t, and Trini shudders again, because she didn’t _know_ that she was _allowed_. She doesn’t ask verbally, though – just searches her eyes for the answer, and Kimberly doesn’t hesitate to nod, desperately, _gratefully_ , like she’s been waiting for this for months.

Maybe she has, maybe they both have. (Maybe Trini should just stop fucking thinking so damn much.)

Trini eases forward carefully, watching Kimberly’s face for any hints of discomfort, but she finds none, and she’s fucking _thrilled_ to no end when Kimberly takes two of her fingers with absolutely no resistance, pushing back against her hand to take them deeper inside, all the way – and for a moment, it’s like Trini can’t breathe. It’s like everything around them has stopped. Her heart is pounding so loudly in her ears that she can’t hear anything else. All she can feel is Kimberly clawing at her back, arching into her, clutching down on her fingers and, God, it’s a little embarrassing, but that ache in the pit of her stomach is so strong that Trini honestly feels like she could come right now, just from being inside her.

“Kim –” she chokes. She drops her head to Kimberly’s shoulder, breathing heavily into her neck. “Fuck, you feel so good…”

Kimberly trembles, holds her closer, but Trini can feel her shaking her head weakly. “ _You_ feel good,” she sighs. “Don’t stop.”

(Kimberly has said a lot of things that have turned Trini on, to varying degrees, but _that_ hits her especially hard.)

She pushes in again, and she’s awed by the little sound of encouragement she gets in return. After months and months of almosts and ‘accidents’ and always being teased to high Heaven, it feels so damn good to finally be inside Kimberly that she can’t even think straight. Things like skill and technique are foreign to her, and she’s left with no choice but to fall back on the instinctive rhythm that’s pounding heavily in her veins.

It seems to work well enough for now, because Kimberly’s biting her lip and sighing against Trini’s cheek and arching up into her hand. Trini feels almost dizzy with lust, kissing every inch of skin within reach of her mouth, and Kimberly’s hand is in her hair again, guiding her down toward her breast once more, which suits her just fine, fuck – and every time her fingers slide back in, her palm grazes Kimberly’s clit, which makes her twitch and tremble and tug her hair even harder and Trini already knows that she’ll never experience anything better than _this_.

But soon Kimberly’s pulling her away from her breast, kissing her again, and it’s messy and a little rough, but it’s perfect.

Then she’s tilting her hips up searchingly and breathing into Trini’s mouth, “More.”

It hits Trini like a fucking knee to the groin, it really does, because she knows _exactly_ what Kimberly is asking for – and she’s absolutely floored by it, because, yeah, she knows that her fingers are kind of on the smaller side, but… fuck, _three_?

She gulps nervously, struggling for a second to find her voice, but she doesn’t stop, even as she asks, “Are you sure?”

Kimberly nods. “When I think about you…” she mumbles, pauses to lick her lips. “When I touch myself, I use three.”

Trini shudders, because she didn’t ever _think_ , not once, that Kimberly may have touched herself to thoughts of her before, and she’s cursing into Kimberly’s shoulder harshly under her breath, hardly cognizant of what she’s saying, because this is just too much for her to endure, it really is – but she does as she’s asked, adds another finger, because how could she fucking _not_ when Kimberly has made it so clear that she _wants_ it?

“Oh, God, like that,” Kimberly whines, and her nails are digging in again, breaking the skin, but Trini likes it. “Just like that – Trini –”

God, the way she says her name almost seems to give it new meaning, but Trini’s actually starting to get a little worried, because that feeling like she might come at any second is starting to build up again and she really doesn’t want to embarrass herself by coming for no fucking reason.

But it seems like Kimberly is right there with her, because her whole body is tensing now, her breath coming in sharp, shuddering hitches, and she’s whimpering with each thrust of Trini’s fingers, and Trini is pretty sure she knows what’s coming and she feels like she’s _dying_ for it –

“O-okay, wait,” Kimberly gasps, fumbling to grasp Trini’s wrist, shuddering hard. “Oh, God.”

Trini freezes immediately. She’s _scared_ , to be honest, worried that she might have done something wrong – but, finally, Kimberly exhales, and her body relaxes again. She laughs a little as she blinks her eyes open, dazed, but she must see the panic on Trini’s face, because she shakes her head.

“Sorry,” she breathes. “You’re good, Trin – you’re _so_ good.” She leans up to kiss Trini once, shortly, gratefully, and collapses back onto her pillow with another breathy little laugh, like she doesn’t have a care in the world. “Too good, honestly. You were literally about to make me come.”

Trini frowns, because she thought that was kind of the point, but she doesn’t say anything.

Kimberly catches onto her confusion and laughs again. “I know it’s weird, but it was just happening so fast – too fast. I didn’t want to come yet.”

(That… still doesn’t make sense to her, but if Kimberly wants _slow_ , that’s fine. She’s waited for this for months – she’s a fucking _expert_ at slow.)

“Sorry,” Trini mumbles. She clears her throat, focuses on _talking_ and not thinking about where her fingers are. “I, uh, got kind of carried away…”

“No, it was my fault,” Kimberly insists. “I asked for more and you gave it to me.”

She giggles again, but Trini doesn’t really think there’s anything _funny_ about that statement, because it makes her stomach twist with desire and reminds her, yet again, that her fingers are still very much inside her incredibly sexy girlfriend and, fuck –

She must give herself away, it must show on her face or something, because Kim’s smile is a little more dangerous now. Trini groans internally.

And then, like Kimberly knows – just _knows_ – that _that’s_ what set her off and that’s what Trini wants to hear, Kimberly breathes, “Give it to me.”

Trini’s whole body seizes up, because, God, she’s not wrong, but why does she have to _hurt_ her like this? She bites her lip hard and turns to bury her face in Kimberly’s shoulder, sure that it’s burning about a million degrees and she _swears_ that she’s on the verge of truly humiliating herself.

But Kimberly goes on, turns to press her mouth to Trini’s ear. “I’m ready now,” she promises, then fucking bites down, hard. “Give it to me.”

The words _hurt_ , they really do, they fucking hurt so good, but they get the desired result. Trini can’t resist. She starts thrusting again, giving her what she asked for – and she _tries_ to remind herself to go slow, to take it easy, because Kimberly obviously doesn’t want to rush things now, but she’s making it so fucking hard, whining into her ear, giving these needy little sighs. All Trini can think about is making her come again.

She doesn’t even realize that she’s gotten so carried away that she’s leaving a vivid trail of teethmarks against Kimberly’s collarbone and throat until Kimberly gasps, hissing at the pain. It’s enough to make Trini pause – even though she knows by now that Kimberly _likes_ it – because her parents are going to be home at some point tonight and Ranger healing can only do so much so fast.

But as soon as she stops, Kimberly pulls her closer again, holds her in place, whispers, “Harder.”

Trini bites down a little more sharply before – and if the movements of her hand follow suit, it’s not entirely her fault, because she’s overwhelmed and distracted, and it’s really fucking difficult to remember how to bite her hard and touch her softly at the same time. Kimberly doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, she seems to like it. She gives a long, shuddering whimper and sinks into the mattress, her thighs parting further as though inviting Trini to take _more_ of her and – fuck, Trini would _love_ to take that opportunity, but Kimberly wants _slow_ and she wants this moment to last and –

She doesn’t really have time to dwell on that further, because Kimberly growls under her breath and grasps the back of the cut-off sweater Trini’s wearing and yanks it up sharply – and it is at this point that Trini realizes that she’s actually frustrated her now, because she gets pushy when she doesn’t immediately get what she wants. (Trini fucking _loves_ it when she gets pushy.) Her sweater gets tangled up under her arms, though, which forces her to (regrettably) remove her fingers long enough for Kimberly to tug it free over her shoulders, and the excess fabric ends up bunched together with the hood around her neck, so it chokes her just a little until it finally comes off, but she doesn’t care – kind of likes it, even.

Before she can evaluate that thought further, Kimberly’s wrenching her back down for another kiss, one that stings when her teeth sink in but it feels so fucking good combined with the sensation of slipping her fingers back inside the clinging wetness between Kimberly’s thighs. She starts with two – as a courtesy, almost, to give her time to adjust again – but hardly a moment passes before Kimberly is whining plaintively into her mouth, and she already knows what it means, so she adds another, which earns her a long sigh of relief followed by a throaty moan.

Things are getting fuzzy again and Trini wants to blame it on the commanding nature of Kimberly’s kisses, the way she grasps her by the nape of the neck with both hands and holds her in place, reminding her that, as always, she’s in control, but she knows that at least half of it has to be her own desperation, because she’s already doing that thing again, that thing where she gets carried away and probably pushes in a little too hard, a little too fast for what is essentially their first time – but Kimberly’s practically fucking _demanding_ it of her, and she can’t resist the urge to give it.

She feels like every day they’ve been together has been inevitably leading to this point, this very moment.

Now that it’s within her grasp, her patience has run thin, but –

But she swears she just heard the front door open downstairs.

She tries not to panic, to remain calm, resisting against the demanding force of Kimberly’s hold. “Kim –”

Kimberly just kisses her again, harder, and bites her lip like she’s punishing her for trying to pull away.

But Trini hears _something_. There’s definitely movement downstairs, and no matter how good Kimberly feels around her fingers, she can’t ignore it. She pulls away with a little more difficulty this time, drawing in a sharp breath as Kim’s nails dig into the back of her neck. “Kimberly, I think –”

And then she hears it – Kimberly’s mother, calling up the stairs, “Kimmy? Sweetie, are you home?”

Trini cringes, immediately stilling her fingers, but Kimberly’s hand finds her wrist almost instantaneously, squeezes it hard.

“Don’t stop,” she whispers against Trini’s lips, harshly, desperately.

Trini hesitates, because, fuck, she doesn’t _want_ to stop, but she also doesn’t want to be murdered. “But – your parents are –”

“Please,” Kimberly breathes, sharp and needy, and her eyes are so dark, inky pupils blown so wide they’ve almost swallowed the rich brown Trini loves so much. “I’m so close. I’m _so_ close, Trin. I wanna come so bad. Please.” She kisses her again, whimpering into her mouth. “ _Please_.”

She gives in – of course she does – out of sheer helplessness more than anything, because her willpower dissolved the moment she heard that first little plea, and, honestly, she thinks she might just die if she doesn’t get to feel Kimberly come after the all torment she’s already endured today.

(Besides, there’s an unspoken rule in the Hart house that, if Kimberly doesn’t answer, her parents can just assume that she’s not home.)

“Okay,” she breathes back, finally. “But you have to be –”

“Quiet,” Kim supplies, obediently hushing her voice even as she pushes insistently on Trini’s wrist. “I will be. I promise. Just, please – Trini –”

Again, Trini obeys, because she is physically incapable of doing anything else, even on a normal day – and definitely fucking not when Kimberly is covering Trini’s hand with her own and guiding her until she falls into the rhythm Kimberly wants, urging her deeper, harder, faster…

Fuck, she doesn’t know why that’s so _hot_ , but it is, because it’s basically like Kim is forcing Trini to fuck her just the way she likes and –

Trini realizes quickly that Kimberly wasn’t lying when she said she was close, because it takes only another few long thrusts of her fingers before Kimberly is tensing beneath her, biting her own lip hard to stifle a tremulous, falsetto cry that Trini is sure is the most beautiful sound she’s ever heard – and, fuck, she squeezes so, _so_ tightly around Trini’s fingers, clutching all three of them like she never wants to let them go.

It happens, too – just like she knew it would. Trini’s so worked up from everything that’s been happening that when Kimberly comes, she comes. (It’s not particularly strong or intense, but it’s real and unmistakable, and it makes her squirm faintly between Kimberly’s thighs as it tapers off.)

She’s still hyper aware of the fact that Kim’s parents are just downstairs, but before she can even think of pulling out, Kim is clutching her tighter, both hands rising to cup her face, and they’re trembling as she holds Trini close, just barely able to look in her eyes as she trembles beneath her.

“Keep going,” she begs in a tremulous little whimper. She kisses her again, briefly, barely sealing the press of their lips, like she can’t concentrate hard enough to do it correctly, and breathes into Trini’s mouth, “I’m gonna – oh, God, I’m gonna come again, just… don’t stop yet, please.”

And fuck if that’s not the sexiest thing Trini’s ever heard. She nudges forward again, gently, because she knows Kimberly has to be sensitive, but she whines like it’s not enough and arches up to press herself harder into Trini’s hand, forcing her deeper, clutching her fingers like she _needs_ her – and, God, Trini honestly feels like she could die, just drop dead, right now. If kissing Kimberly is Hell, then having sex with her must be the ninth circle of purgatory, because she feels raw and exposed and so weak, desperate to give her what she wants, anything and everything she wants.

Kimberly drops her head back to the pillow with a broken cry, the vein that maps the length of her throat full and strained with the sound, her nails digging in, probably breaking the skin, and Trini doesn’t care – she _wants_ it to hurt, wants to feel _everything_. Kimberly is still driving her hips up to meet Trini’s fingers, and it’s only a few seconds, just long enough for Trini to slide all the way back in once, twice – before she’s dissolving into a series of tremors that echo through both of them and crying out just a little too loudly for someone who’s not supposed to be home.

But Trini doesn’t _want_ to stop anymore. She doesn’t care that Kimberly’s parents are downstairs. She wants to make her come again and again and again, until she can’t stand it – but she forces herself to take a deep breath, clears her mind and focuses on the moment instead.

She tries to distract herself, kisses Kimberly’s shoulder and throat and jaw, gently, softly, and slowly strokes her down.

Kimberly is breathing heavily beneath her, admitting a small hum of gratitude for each kiss, and even though Trini’s blood still feels like it’s thick and molten, hot enough to burn through her skin, and the ache in her gut hasn’t lessened at all, she smiles. She presses one last kiss to the corner of Kimberly’s mouth and, with an extreme effort of willpower and reluctance, gently withdraws her fingers.

Kimberly sighs and gives a little sound of complaint, murmurs, “Do we have to stop?”

“I don’t want to,” Trini admits, sighing as she presses their cheeks together, both of which are warm and flushed for different reasons – though she hesitates to place her hand down anywhere, because her fingers are literally _dripping_ and, God, it’s so fucking hot to think that she made Kim that wet, but she can’t actually let herself _think_ about it or she’ll never let Kim out of this bed and –

Kimberly giggles to herself. “You can put your hand down, Trin. I’ve already ruined these sheets.”

Trini rolls her eyes, but her face heats up anyway – and she’s sure Kim knew it would. “Shut up.”

“Or if you’re really that worried about it…” she drawls, reaching for Trini’s wrist, “I could clean it up for you.”

(Apparently, her exhaustion has already worn off, because she doesn’t hesitate to fuck Trini up even further.)

“I’m good,” Trini hedges, immediately snatching her hand away and fighting down another shudder, because she knows _exactly_ what Kimberly’s thinking and she literally _cannot_ handle that again – not _now_ , for a multitude of fucking reasons.

Kimberly just laughs.

//

Blame it on her natural curiosity, but – remember that whole ‘Ranger connection’ thing?

Yeah, Trini’s always kind of wanted to know how crazy it would make the others once she and Kim had finally, _actually_ had sex…

She wonders what they’re doing _now_ – how many miles Zack has run, how much weight Jason has lifted, how many inventions Billy has finished.

In the past, she couldn’t help but feel a little guilty about it. It was _worth_ it – always, without a doubt – but she still got kind of embarrassed every time Kimberly started getting a little too close, because she could never quite forget the fact that the guys would be able to tell something was up. Also, she thought it was almost unfair, at times, because Kimberly is almost insatiable, down for anything at any given time, which means that the guys are probably bouncing off the walls almost twenty-four seven. (Billy’s the only one who seems to appreciate the influx of energy.)

But, right now, Trini doesn’t care if Zack has run to San Francisco and back or if Jason’s been ripping trees out of the ground, roots and all.

This time, she’s not sorry. Not at all. Not even a little.

//

She’s starting to think, though, that maybe, just maybe, she was wrong to think so.

Maybe the universe has decided to punish her for being selfish and prideful and, fuck, if it has, then it’s _working_.

She wants to die. Okay, fine, maybe she’s being just a little dramatic – but, look, Kimberly is _killing_ her right now.

True to form, even after the psychological torment Trini has already undergone today, Kimberly couldn’t let up. Having sex while her parents were literally one floor down just wasn’t enough – she couldn’t let _that_ be the end of it. Nope. That just would’ve been too kind, too merciful.

No, because she’s Kimberly Hart and because she’s also the biggest fucking tease on Earth, once they’d finally managed to pull themselves out of bed to address her parents downstairs – with the pre-fabricated excuse that they had been ‘napping’ and ‘didn’t hear them come home’ – Kimberly decided that she _had_ to put on what just _happened_ to be, like, the skimpiest fucking clothes that she owns. (She couldn’t put on the same clothes she had been wearing after she’d taken her shower, even though she literally only wore them for ten minutes at the most – of course not.)

Which means that, from the moment they left Kimberly’s bedroom, Trini has been forced to endure increasing levels of torture.

Saying hello to Kimberly’s parents – torture. It was a feat Trini could achieve only after she’d scrubbed her hands clean in the sink for three solid minutes, which didn’t even really matter, in the end, because she still went as red as a tomato the moment she met Mr. and Mrs. Hart’s eyes.

Sitting across from Kimberly through dinner with her parents – torture. The food was incredible, of course, but Kimberly kept nudging Trini’s knee with her ankle under the table and giving her this naughty little smile, this smug, victorious smirk, blatantly looking her up and down, even though her parents were literally two feet away, watching them. (Trini choked on her noodles. She doesn’t want to talk about it.)

Even now, watching Kimberly dance around the kitchen as she cleans up after dinner and starts working on dessert – yep, more torture.

Because, as Trini noted before, she’s wearing the cruelest fucking thing she possibly could – this slinky little pink tank top that clings to her figure with these tiny white shorts that leave absolutely nothing to the imagination and look so good against her sun-kissed skin, along with her favorite stringy pink choker, the one with the little yellow heart in the center, and the newest addition to her wardrobe, her braided yellow anklet, which is just adorable – and, after everything that’s happened in the past few hours, Trini just can’t handle anymore, because she knows it’s _intentional_.

Kimberly drives her crazy so often and so effortlessly that she should have long since built up some sort of tolerance, but she’s not getting used to it at all, and even the fact that Kimberly is actually _doing_ something right now – kneading the dough for Billy’s favorite cookies – doesn’t deter Trini from trying to figure out the easiest way to get her out of those little shorts and into bed again.

But she only entertains that thought for a moment before she pushes it from her mind. Yeah, okay, they’ve had sex now – and? So what? This really isn’t any different from any other night she spends with Kimberly, so she decides to suck it up and tough it out – because she _can_ and she _will_.

She just suffers in silence, as she usually does, watches on as Kimberly cleans and bakes and dances around the kitchen to one of her favorite Hindi songs. (Because she’s seen it come up several times in their shared playlist, she knows it’s called ‘Sheila Ki Jawani,’ but she always refers to it in her head as ‘Punishment,’ because that’s what it fucking _is_ , okay?) But she forces herself to relax, to laugh a little at how cute Kimberly is when she’s not actively trying to destroy the last remaining shreds of Trini’s self-control, and helps her out with simple little tasks when she asks.

For a few glorious moments, she thinks that maybe, just maybe, she might be able to forget about her stupid hormones.

Then, well – then things get worse. _Worse_ – meaning that Kimberly decides to start _feeding_ her things.

That in itself is nothing unusual, because Kimberly bakes _a lot_ , so a good portion of their free time is spent in the kitchen. She’s constantly making things for her friends and family – whether that means soft sugar cookies for Billy or triple chocolate fudge brownies for Jason and his little sister or something with a fancy European name (that neither of them can pronounce correctly) that she saw late at night on Food Network for her parents to try – which means that there is almost _always_ an opportunity for Kimberly to feed her, to bounce over, giggling, and hold out something sweet and say ‘here, try this’ and ‘what do you think?’ and ‘do you like it?’ (She never quite manages to make it sound perfectly _innocent_.)

Tonight, it’s something with a flaky crust that’s already been pulled out of the oven, topped with cream and strawberries. Kimberly seems to take great pleasure in licking the cream off her spoon, the juice of the fruit off her fingers – again, not unusual, but Trini’s staring, she’s totally staring.

It starts with a strawberry. One innocent little strawberry.

One strawberry turns into two, three. ( _Innocent_ – right?)

Then – _then_ Kimberly sidles over to her, with some of the cream – or icing or whatever the fuck it is – on a spoon, and there’s a dangerous look in her eyes that immediately flags the panic center of Trini’s brain, puts her whole body on high alert, but she’s powerless to resist as Kimberly holds it out for her, offering her a taste. Whatever it is tastes nice enough, but she’s more concerned with the fact that, somehow, half of it has ended up on the corner of her mouth instead of her tongue and – and, oh, _that’s_ why Kimberly looks so satisfied, because that was her plan all along.

She smirks as she grips Trini’s jaw with her free hand to hold her still and slowly, slowly leans in to lick it off for her – and Trini lets her, just stands there and fucking takes every moment of excruciating torture as it comes, because, God, it’s almost like she _needs_ it at this point.

Kimberly finishes with a sweet little kiss, coy and mocking all at once – like it’s Trini’s _reward_ for standing still for her, for being a good girl.

When she releases Trini’s jaw, her hand drops lower, fingertips trailing down Trini’s throat and the center of her chest and digging in just a little against her stomach before she tugs a little at her belt. She steps back with a smirk, pops the spoon back into her mouth, goes back to work.

Trini sags heavily against the countertop behind her, trying (and failing) to catch her breath.

Fuck, it’s just not _fair_ how easily Kimberly utterly destroys her – because she _knows_ that Kimberly’s parents are literally only feet away, working on some joint-project that’s spread out in the living room, but Kim is _closer_ , and she’s _pretending_ to keep busy but she’s really _not_ , she’s just fucking teasing her again, forcing Trini to hold her eyes as she licks the spoon clean and Trini’s really starting to think that she just needs to leave because her resolve is seriously wearing thin and she’s kind of afraid to find out what will happen when it runs out.

And Kimberly _knows_ how close she is to breaking – she senses it like blood in the water.

She glances over again, her eyes dark below the sweep of her lashes. “Want some more?”

It’s obviously said in jest, obviously meant to tease, and Trini _knows_ this – just like she knows that her restraint is slipping, slowly and surely – but there’s this _pull_ in her gut, this physical magnetism between them that demands to be obeyed and satisfied, a commanding force that she is unable to resist. Though she tells herself that she should stay right where she is, where it’s safe, she stands up straighter and steps forward.

(She _obeys_ , because that’s just what she does.)

She doesn’t even have to say anything. Kimberly holds out the spoon for her again, still licking the last trace of frosting from her own lips, watching Trini with hungry eyes that make her blood race, make her knees shake, make her _weak_. She doesn’t even taste it this time. Feels the spoon against her tongue, feels it nudge her teeth with a soft _clink_ when she loses focus again, because she’s looking at the knowing curve of Kimberly’s lips and the hint of anticipation in her gaze – and she knows that Kimberly’s parents are still just in the other room, but her mind is thick and fuzzy and it’s getting harder and harder to remember why the kitchen _isn’t_ the best place to intimately reacquaint herself with Kimberly’s body.

Kimberly’s eyes are dark and knowing and satisfied and victorious, and Trini doesn’t really _understand_. She knows that it isn’t really about the icing anymore – it’s some kind of allegory, some kind of allusion, some message that hasn’t _quite_ set in yet but she’s getting there, she’s almost there…

It hits her when Kimberly kisses her again, when she slides her hand up to Trini’s jaw and presses her thumb down against Trini’s chin to open her mouth and flick her tongue against Trini’s teeth, traces the ridges of her canines and incisors until her gums ache and an insistent throb has begun in the pit of her stomach – and she doesn’t really realize it at first, doesn’t feel herself move, but she hears the clatter of the spoon falling onto the counter, and then Kimberly’s hands are fisting in her hair and they’re pressed so close together and Trini feels that rush again, that heady cocktail of anticipation and desire trembling in her veins and in the curvature of her spine, in every aching vertebra.

Her hands, though – they’re not shaking anymore. Her hands are _sure_ as they find Kimberly’s hips, her fingertips skirting beneath the limits of that slinky little tank top that’s been driving her crazy ever since they dragged themselves out of Kimberly’s bed.

And Kimberly’s smiling against her lips, like she knew this would happen, like this was her plan all along, but Trini can’t even find the presence of mind to be irritated or embarrassed by it. She doesn’t give a fuck if her susceptibility to Kimberly’s charms makes her easy or desperate or pathetic – it doesn’t matter, as long as Kimberly keeps pulling her _closer_ , kissing her like _this_ , arching up onto her toes and lifting her knee to hook it over Trini’s hip like it’s some kind of _invitation_ … (God, it’s inappropriate and naughty and kind of obscene, but she doesn’t _care_ , wants _more_.)

There’s a part of her deep, deep in the back of her mind that is quivering with fear and embarrassment because this is _so_ fucking out of line and if Kimberly’s parents come anywhere near this kitchen, Trini expects a few knives to follow her out the door – no matter how much Mr. and Mrs. Hart supposedly adore her – but Kimberly acts like they’re the only two people in the house, not even really trying to keep herself quiet.

It’s almost insane how badly Trini wants her – because it has literally only been _two hours_ since she last touched her – and she wonders if maybe _this_ is why they waited so long, because now that the final barrier has been crossed, there’s nothing to subdue their hunger for each other.

Their kisses are excessively sweet and cloying with the last bit of icing still clinging to their tongues, and Trini kind of wishes it would just fuck off and dissolve already because she wants to taste _Kim_ , not sugar – but she loses her train of thought when Kimberly grasps her hands and begins to guide them where she wants them – and, fuck, Trini _loves_ it when she does that, but… are they seriously going to have sex in the kitchen?

“Are we really doing this?” she mumbles into Kimberly’s mouth. “Here?”

Kim doesn’t say anything back. She doesn’t _have_ to, not when she responds with a dangerous smirk and a soft giggle – which is more a little mewl of amusement and _certainty_ than anything – and leans in to kiss her again, lets her nails dig in, just a little, and nips hard at Trini’s bottom lip until the sharp sting of it races down her spine, surging like lightning through every nerve impulse until it jolts her hips into a sudden jerk.

And Trini knows without a doubt that the answer to her question is _fuck_ _yes_.

(She should feel guilty about this. She really _should_ – she _tries_ to – she _can’t_.)

That wicked tongue flicks against Trini’s teeth again and she quivers, muttering under her breath, “You’re going to get me in so much trouble.”

“Only if we get caught,” Kim murmurs back, but the excessive sweetness of her voice does nothing to disguise the indecent suggestion beneath.

She flashes a coy smile that makes Trini want to break every rule known to man.

It somehow seems to say, without any words at all, ‘Come get me, I _dare_ you.’

Then they’re kissing again. Trini’s not sure which one of them started it, but she doesn’t particularly care. She’s a little preoccupied, thumbing the waistband of Kimberly’s shorts just a little hesitantly – because this is still _new_ , okay, and no matter how much it _seems_ like Kimberly wants her to continue, she has to be _sure_ – and Kimberly’s nodding into their kiss with a small, needy sound that Trini wants to file away in her mind and keep forever, and her hips are arching away from the cupboards she’s leaning against to press insistently into Trini’s hand – and, damn, Trini feels like she could spend the rest of her life like this, in this thick, heavy moment of anticipation just before she slips her hand inside…

She quickly changes her mind, though, because she _lives_ for the moment after – the moment her fingertips _finally_ slip into the wet, clinging heat that she’s been dying to feel again – and, fuck, the way Kimberly absolutely _melts_ against her is just incredible. There’s something so beautiful in the way the dominant, searching tilt of her hips defers to Trini’s touch and the taut bands of muscle in her core, insistently pressing closer, relax and soften, like that first touch is enough to make her forget that she’s still the one in control. (Because she is, she always is.)

God, and the _sound_ she makes – that soft, soft, desperate breath that catches in her chest and makes Trini’s heart stutter.

She wants to hear that sound every day for the rest of her life.

And it’s a little embarrassing, but that first touch is enough to make Trini _ache_ – and, honestly, it feels like, at any moment, she could just collapse, because she’s physically _weak_ under the onslaught of emotions that flood her body. Touching Kimberly is just so _intense_ , especially when Kimberly is making these delicate, needy sounds into her mouth and pulling her close and her hips are jumping into Trini’s hand after every alternating circle against her clit. She’s so wet that it makes Trini dizzy, makes her forget that anything beyond the impossibly perfect girl in her arms even exists.

Then Kimberly’s hand is circling her wrist – and she’s not pushing or pulling, just _squeezing_ , but gently, like she’s asking for something.

“Inside,” she breathes, a moment later, and Trini almost chokes on the word. “Trin, please?”

(The plea is unnecessary, because Trini doesn’t think for a second about denying her – but, God, she’s fucking _grateful_ for it anyway.)

She circles Kimberly’s clit once more, because she can’t resist, then slides further down to seek out the warm, pouty opening waiting for her, and she sinks in so easily that it makes her knees shake. She lets her head fall to Kimberly’s shoulder with a hard shiver as she slips all the way inside, and it’s almost like Kimberly knew she was going to break a little, because she turns to follow after her so that her grateful sigh drifts directly into Trini’s ear. They both shudder, clinging to one another tightly, and Trini loses herself for a moment, because the way Kimberly clutches her desperately and just a little possessively is everything Trini has ever wanted and more and –

Kimberly’s phone vibrates against the marble countertop, a harsh buzz that startles both of them.

Kim gasps sharply and clutches Trini’s shoulders so tightly it hurts, while Trini freezes up completely – immediately confronted with a thousand or so horrifying visions of Kimberly’s parents marching into the kitchen with knives and various other instruments of torture.

It takes a moment, but they both catch their breath – and then Kimberly _giggles_ , covering her mouth with her hand. “Oh, my God.”

Trini shakes her head. (That wasn’t funny – it was terrifying.) “Jesus, I almost had a heart attack,” she mutters into Kim’s collarbone.

Kimberly giggles again, glances over at her phone – and then reaches out for it.

Trini gapes at her incredulously. “You’re seriously going to answer that _now_?”

( _Now_ – meaning when Trini is currently still knuckle-deep _inside her_ , in plain fucking sight, in the middle of the Harts’ fancy kitchen.)

“Sorry,” she mumbles back a little sheepishly, with a little flush on her cheeks that’s so damn attractive it’s infuriating. “But it’s Billy.”

To her annoyance, Trini can’t really find a reason to argue with that logic. (It’s _Billy_ , after all.) “Fine.”

Kimberly types something back quickly, then tosses her phone on the counter and wraps her arms around Trini’s shoulders. “Okay, continue.”

Trini scoffs faintly. “You sure? You don’t want to make yourself more comfortable? Get a drink or something to –?”

“Shut up,” Kimberly growls under her breath, yanks Trini back in by the collar of her shirt and steals another kiss.

(Sometimes, her natural propensity for sarcasm really pulls through for her – because _fuck_ , more of that, please.)

Trini can’t decide if it’s the demanding pressure of Kimberly’s hands or the haughty attitude audible in her voice that does it, but that searing heat that clouds her senses flares right back up again. The way Kimberly nibbles on her lip and gives a slow, sure roll of her hips to force Trini’s fingers deeper certainly helps, too – and, God, she wishes that she were _stronger_ , strong enough to make her wait for it – to make her _beg_ for it, even, the way she’d offered to earlier – but she can’t, because Kimberly kisses her and she loses herself again in the clinging warmth around her fingers and the way Kimberly whines high in her throat and her nails dig into the back of Trini’s neck when she pushes in deep and –

Kimberly’s phone buzzes again.

Before Trini even has a chance to complain, Kim’s holding Trini harder against her, mumbling, “Ignore it.”

Trini doesn’t argue, just renews the effort of her hand until she’s clutching her so tightly it begins to sting.

Kimberly’s phone buzzes. Again.

(Why does this keep happening?)

“Kim –”

“ _Ignore_ it.”

And again.

“Are you sure?”

“Trini, just –”

Again.

“Fuck,” Kimberly growls in a low, rumbling timbre that is so, _so_ much sexier than it has any right to be. She snatches it up again, typing something back hastily, then literally tosses it over her shoulder and onto the counter behind her – but she’s kissing Trini again before it even makes contact, and neither of them even flinch when it bounces, flips, and falls off the other side and onto the floor with an audible clatter.

They’re tangled up in each other again in seconds and Trini swears she’ll never get over the way it feels to actually be _inside_ of her, and her palm is grinding against Kimberly’s clit with every push forward, and Kimberly is shuddering and whimpering into her mouth like she can’t help it, tensing up like she’s _almost_ there, and Trini can’t wait to make her come again, practically needs it at this point, and –

The timer for the oven goes off.

Kim jumps and stiffens again, and the moment breaks.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Trini hisses, turning back to glare at the infernal piece of machinery.

(If there’s one more interruption, she seriously might fucking break something.)

Kimberly runs a shaky hand through her hair. “Don’t worry,” she says, a bit out of breath. “I got this.”

And Trini can’t quite believe her eyes, because it’s so surreal, but it’s _happening_ – Kimberly takes one of the large plastic spoons in the discarded bowl on the counter next to her, takes a moment to line up her shot, and throws it clear across the kitchen the way one would throw a knife – and hits the button to cancel the timer, dead center. (Trini’s actually really impressed that she managed that, considering their current predicament.)

“Nice shot,” she laughs under her breath.

“Thanks,” Kim breathes, smirks, then yanks Trini forward until their lips meet again.

It’s rough and impatient and _perfect_ – so, so perfect – but Trini hesitates. “Wait, what about the –?”

“They’ll be fine for a few more minutes.”

“Are you sure you don’t –?”

“God, stop _talking_ ,” Kimberly breathes hotly, holds Trini in place to ravage her mouth.

(That’s the best plan Trini thinks she’s ever fucking heard.)

When their lips meet again, it’s with a rough desperation that Trini doesn’t think she’s ever felt from Kimberly before, and she’s arching into her hand with a beautiful abandonment that makes Trini really, really wish they had the whole house to themselves, because if they did, she’d –

Honestly, she’d probably get herself into a lot of fucking _trouble_ , because it seems like Kim is down for almost anything at this point.

But that thought is pushed rather abruptly from her mind – because Kimberly’s thighs are trembling now, and the grasping warmth around Trini’s fingers is starting to flutter and seize up, and all Trini can do is pray to any celestial being that will listen that they’re not interrupted this time.

She doesn’t want to close her eyes, because she doesn’t want to miss even a single moment, but those tiny, needy sounds that Kimberly is making, the ones that she loves to hear so, so much, are gradually starting to get louder – so loud that one of her parents is _bound_ to hear it – and Trini has no choice but to kiss her again. She seals their lips together as she presses deeper, searches for that spot Kimberly helped her find earlier, and she holds her close as she finally shakes apart, melting into Trini’s arms with a tremulous little whimper that reverberates in Trini’s chest.

It’s perfect, absolutely perfect, and it literally takes her breath away, makes it a little hard to breathe for a second, because, when she opens her eyes again, Kimberly’s looking back at her – struggling to do so, but still looking right back – and she’s just so _beautiful_.

(Briefly, as they breathe together, she wonders if either of them are ever going to say that word she _knows_ they both feel.)

She thinks maybe she should feel something like pride or satisfaction – but she feels _grateful_. She feels like she’s the luckiest girl in the world. She softens her touch, leans in to kiss Kimberly gently as the last little shaking tremors ripple down from her shoulders through the rest of her body – and Kimberly kisses her back a little hazily, a little sloppily, but she’s trying, and Trini just smiles, because it’s _perfect._

When she moves to ease her fingers out a moment later, Kimberly’s hand lands softly on her wrist again.

“Mm,” she hums. Even though it’s not a word, Trini’s pretty sure it’s meant as a refusal. This is proven when she murmurs, “Stay.”

Trini has absolutely no problem with that. She grins faintly, then kisses the little beauty mark near the corner of Kimberly’s mouth.

Kimberly turns her head to meet her lips and –

“Kimmy?”

(Thankfully, the voice comes from the living room, not the doorway – otherwise Trini would’ve already bolted for the front door.)

They break apart with a heavy sigh.

“Sweetheart, is something burning?”

Kimberly’s eyes go wide. “Shit.”

After a few seconds of graceless fumbling – during which Kimberly tries to straighten her clothes and Trini attempts to extract her hand quickly but gently – they finally manage to untangle themselves, and Kimberly races across the kitchen to the oven – just in the nick of time, apparently.

Kimberly’s mother appears in the doorway, soon followed by her husband, and Trini has to fucking hightail it to the sink to wash her hands – again – because it’s very obvious that her fingers are still wet (for no apparent reason) and _that_ is a conversation she definitely does _not_ want to have.

Although, she doesn’t particularly enjoy the one that follows, either – the one that starts with, ‘Kimmy, why is there a mixing spoon in the middle of the floor?’ and then takes a long excruciating journey through other pointed inquiries like ‘why is there _frosting_ all over the timer for the oven?’ and ‘what have you gotten all over the counter?’ and ‘how did your cell phone end up all the way over _here_?’

Trini lets Kimberly answer every single one of them, because she doesn’t particularly feel like being murdered, thanks – but she thinks she might just drop dead after all, because she _swears_ that Mr. and Mrs. Hart know the real answer. Kimberly’s forced excuses only seem to amuse them.

But, miraculously, they don’t bring it up – and they don’t kick Trini out, either. After it has been determined that Billy’s cookies are burnt beyond salvation and they’re going to have to start over again, Kimberly’s parents leave them to clean up the mess – chiding them to ‘pay more attention this time.’ They both smile and nod and put on their best little angel faces (like they weren’t just fucking in the kitchen) until they’re alone again.

Just when Trini feels like she might be able to start breathing again, Kimberly sidles up behind her and wraps her arms around her waist.

(Fuck, this girl legitimately has zero chill – and Trini loves it.)

“You realize that’s four now, right?” she murmurs into her ear.

“What do you mean?” Trini asks, clears her throat when she realizes her voice is still all sharp and pitchy. “F-four what?”

“You’ve made me come four times in less than twenty-four hours,” Kim whispers, “and I still haven’t gotten to touch you.”

Trini really wishes she could figure out a way to keep the blood from rushing to her face. “We keep getting interrupted!”

(Good one, right? Yep. Very smooth.)

“We didn’t get interrupted last night,” Kimberly counters.

Trini scoffs, because it’s not like this is making her nervous or anything. (It totally fucking is.) “You fell asleep.”

“Fine, you have a point,” Kimberly sighs with the faintest hint of attitude. “But next time, I’m getting you naked.”

“Not if I get _you_ naked first,” Trini mumbles.

“Why can’t we both be naked?” Kimberly laughs. She kisses the corner of Trini’s jaw in a way that is _definitely_ not meant to be innocent, the pitch of her voice dropping just a bit lower, into that deep range that makes Trini shiver. “It’ll be better that way, don’t you think?”

Trini can’t really think of a response for that, because her brain is pretty much short-circuiting, so Kimberly fills in for her.

“I mean it,” she whispers. “Next time, you’re _mine_.”

Trini swears her soul departs her body, because – just, fucking – _fuck_.

She’s in so much fucking trouble.

**Author's Note:**

> Fuck, look, I'm sorry, okay?? Don't hate me!! I'm horrible at smut!! It's all @stepsofthepalace's fault, so blame her!!
> 
> But if you're so enraged by my ineptitude that you feel inclined to yell at me directly, I'm on Tumblr @grammarkid.


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